


Songbird

by godblessthefandom (Browncoat101)



Category: Firefly, Glee
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Space, F/F, Lesbians in Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-07-20 03:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 40,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7388608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browncoat101/pseuds/godblessthefandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew of the Songbird has one mission in life: Do the job, and get paid. When they're hired by Al Motta to transport his daughter across the galaxy, can they get the job done and avoid Alliance cruisers, all in one fell swoop? Glee/Firefly AU -- A Troubletones/Brittana Story -- Completed</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Meeting in Eavesdown

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: A few things --
> 
> 1\. This isn't a 1:1 Firefly Glee Crossover. You'll notice that some of the Firefly crew quirks seem to mix up in our glee characters. This is because there really isn't an exact Mal as a Glee character, or an exact Kaylee. You'll have to excuse the liberties that I've taken with the characters and know that I've tried my best to make them unique in their own right. 
> 
> 2\. This is a rather loose retelling of the pilot episode of Firefly called Serenity. Again, not 1:1, but you'll see it get tighter as the chapters go by. 
> 
> 3\. I have no bothered to include a Chinese translation for the phrases I use in the stories. Just because I think they're pretty clear from context. If you'd like to know what they mean, you can always Google them, or what have you. But, you're not going to derive any special meaning from the phrases, they're just colorful (Though some are more 'colorful' than others!).
> 
> 4\. This is going to be a full fic, I'm thinking at least 40k words, probably closer to 50k, but the chapters are going to be slow updating, maybe once a month. I'm trading large chapter size for slower updates. Sorry about that. 
> 
> 5\. This is a Troubletones/Brittana fic, but you'll see alot of my faves in this story. The main romance is Brittana, but the story is about the Troubletones, and the rest of the crew of the Songbird, along with flashbacks to the Unification Wars (which is marked in italics). 
> 
> Sorry about all the chatter. Hope you enjoy!!!

_The explosion was still ringing in her ears as she ran._

_Kitty raced down the hill at a breakneck speed, dodging rocks and debris and vaulting over other things that she’d rather not spend any time trying to think about. The air was thick with acrid smoke, and it was all she could do to keep from suffocating on it. Her res pack had been ditched hours ago, thrown to the bottom of some ravine that she’d passed, and not a second thought left behind with it. The heavy weight of it on her back had been fine when she was sitting in a trench, but when she’d had to move, it had only slowed her down._

_She was glad too. She’d been running for what seemed like hours, and the pack would have been an unwanted burden on her back. Her lungs burned, but it only pushed her to run faster, away from where her squad had been ambushed, away from the screams of dying soldiers, away from the carnage, away from the destruction. She looked up at the sky for a moment, trying to catch a glimpse of starlight through the clouds. Trying to catch sight of anything that would help her to orient herself, but she didn’t see anything. Only more pitch black. Only more night. Only more darkness. She had spotted the edge of a dune, and thought she’d noticed it has they had marched towards the battlefield, so she followed it slowly uphill for what seemed like miles. She didn’t know where she was going, she just wanted to go home._

_Her watch had stopped in the blast, showing the last time that some of her sisters and brothers had breathed their last breath. She had no way of knowing how long she had been running. She only knew she couldn’t rest. She ran on._

_She didn’t notice the bit of metal jutting out from the ground until it was too late, a flash of light coming from overhead illuminated the gleaming steel and she only saw it for a moment before the impact. She slammed into it, screaming as the jagged shard tore a chunk of flesh from her leg, and sent her tumbling over the edge of the hill, and into the darkness, the world spinning as she fell._

_When she finally came to a stop at the bottom, she lay on her back for a few more seconds, the life all but drained out of her. Her leg throbbed, and she could feel the warm blood spilling onto the charred ground. She looked up at the sky once again, and slammed her fist into the dirt, not minding the way that the movement jostled her newly opened wound._

_Kitty screamed, the tears washing streaks of dirt down her face. She had been marching since dawn, full of anticipation and nerves, jostling with her squadmates, ready to fight the good fight, and now…. Now she wasn’t even sure who was left alive._

_She tried to remember what she’d learned in basic. She struggled, trying to will the pain that was coursing through her leg, that was coursing through her whole body, to quiet itself so she could think. She squeezed her eyes closed. What was it that the Lieutenant was always yelling at her about? She brought an arm over her face, and gingerly wiped the tears away._

_“Gorramit.”_

_She sighed deeply, and found herself lost in a fog. Either blood loss or shock (or both) was making her brain as addled as her bunkmate Azimio once he’d found himself on the losing end of a drinking contest. It was no use. Her Lieutenant was always telling her that she was a 拉屎 soldier. Now, her team had gotten attacked, and she hadn’t been able to do anything except stay low until the attack was over, and then run away. She’d left everyone behind. She’d left Azimio behind. She closed her eyes against the smoke, and settled in, listening to explosions in the distance._

_Suddenly a boom sounded nearby, and rattled the ground, jostling Kitty where she lay. She opened her eyes carefully, shielding them from the debris that sprinkled gently down around her, like a summer rain. As she looked to the heavens a single, bright spot of light dazzled at her._

_A star._

_Well, stars, plural. Somehow the smoke had cleared, and she could see through the ash, through the soot. She could see the sky. She thought back to her childhood days on Hera. She thought about her parents taking her and her little brother out camping, her mother pointing to the stars that touched the nearest points of their galaxy, and the solar systems that lay just beyond their home. She thought of that home that she was protecting._

_“Med pack.”_

_Kitty looked around wildly. There was no one there, but she’d heard the voice echoing all around her. Heard it as clear as day. It was her Lieutenant's voice, yelling at her like he always had. Telling her the things that she already should have known, but had forgotten. Kitty licked her dried, chapped lips, and brought her hands to her chest and repeated her superior’s words._

_“Med pack.”_

\

“We’re coming out of atmo, Cap’n.”

“Good. Keep her steady. I don’t want any problems today. Things gotta go nice and smooth.”

“Like a new jar of peanut butter, Cap.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes, and headed off the deck, turning back in the doorway.

“Brittany, this is gonna be your first real job as a part of my crew, and I don’t want any trouble. Let’s set the bar high with this one. 懂吗?”

“懂了, Cedes. You can count on me.” Brittany said, giving a tiny salute. She turned back to the console, littered with tiny dinosaurs and using the steering column, arched the ship, and aimed her downward.

“This is Songbird-022015 requesting landing protocols.”

“We read you Songbird, running credentials.”

Mercedes left Brittany to it. It was the first time (that she knew of) her blonde pilot had ever set foot on Persephone, and the first time she’d be landing their ship without Mercedes’ assistance. She didn’t want her getting all nervous.

She climbed down the small ladder, towards the bunks and headed towards her own at the back of the hallway. They had been cruising through Lux system when her old pal Badger had sent them a wave. He needed someone for a discreet job, and he knew they’d be the ones to take it. He didn’t mention the details, or the cargo, but Mercedes was hard up enough, that she’d put aside her feelings of distrust for Badger long enough to make a quick turnaround.

Captain Mercedes Jones had inherited the good ship Songbird from her uncle, who’d been one of the many casualties of the Unification War. Her father had told her that going out into space on that old rig was silly, but she had fought on the side of the Browncoats during the war, and returning home to farm potatoes with her family seemed like something she wouldn’t be able to stand. So, she took her uncle’s ship, which had been sitting in dry dock for almost a decade, and set about fixing it up.

She brought along her lieutenant from their regiment, Santana Lopez, one of her best friends from back home, Kurt Hummel, and went out among the stars. Lucky for her they didn’t come much more loyal than Santana, meanwhile  Kurt could make a toaster run like a purring kitten, so they made it just fine, skimming along the planets in the outer rim of the system. Along the way they’d picked up a stray or two, and now they had an almost complete working crew.

Though, working was a bit of an overstatement. They hadn’t had any jobs in a few months (either over or under the table). Now, stores were running low, and tensions were running high. She’d had to break up two fights in the past week alone, and the chocolate she kept in her room was not going to be enough to get her through it.

She stopped in the hallway, listening to the thrusters to engage, which signified that they’d gotten clearance to land, and would be in Eavesdown before too long. She smiled, Badger had come through again. She could kiss him. Well, if he ever brushed his teeth, she might consider it.

Her attention was broken by the sound of arguing coming from the mess, and gritting her teeth, she strode forward, passing her bunk, and ducking her head to enter.

“I told you for the last time, Berry, those were mine!”

“And I told you, Santana, that I have to maintain ultimate and peak performance, and if I don’t have fresh things every once in a while-”

“What? Your 小妹妹 is going to smell like tuna?”

Mercedes breached the doorway just as Rachel went red in the face, and took a deep breath.

“Enough, you two! Santana get up there with Brittany and give her a hand. Rachel, why don’t you go back to your shuttle and prepare for landing?”

Santana looked like she wanted to argue, but nodded curtly.

“Yes, sir.”

With that, she turned on her heel and headed back down the hallway, towards the bridge, huffing loudly. Rachel, seemed to calm down right away, and got a delighted look on her face.

“We’re landing?! Oh god, I’ve been waiting all week for this. Finally some work!”

“I take it your dance card is full then?”

“Not as much as if I was on an inner rim planet, but it will do in a pinch. I’ve got to thank you, Captain. The Companions Guild and I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“No need to thank me, Ms. Berry, we needed the work as much as you do. We’ll be here for a full twenty four hours, so that should give you more than enough time for a few of your clients.”

“Yes, that should be sufficient.” She smiled.

“Good, then.” Mercedes turned to walk away, but stopped, turning back. “Oh, and Rachel, I know that you and Santana don’t get on very well, but you’ll want to stay out of her stash of strawberries. I’ve seen her kill folks for less.”

Mercedes went on her way, and heard an audible gulp from Rachel. She couldn’t help but smile. Santana wouldn’t kill Rachel. Probably. But, there was no harm in giving everyone a break from Rachel’s antics, at least for a little while.

Mercedes stopped for a moment, listening again to the noises from the ship, and thinking quickly, took a detour, heading down to the engine room. She saw a bit of brown, coiffed locks peeking from behind the engine column, and smiled.

“Kurt? What are you doing to my engine room? It sounds like a giant with a case of gastrointestinal distress.”

Kurt looked up over the whirring engine and pursed his lips. “Well, _Captain_ , I’m doing my best, but your new pilot is working the poor girl like she’s a five dollar whore. I can only do so much.”

“Brittany will get used to her, don’t worry.”

“If she doesn’t crash her first.”

Kurt sounded hurt, and Mercedes could sympathize. The two of them had been working on Songbird for years; treating her right, and learning her quirks. She didn’t like the idea of anyone being rough with her anymore than Kurt did. But, Brittany would learn the ropes, and even though she was a quirky woman, Mercedes had never seen a better pilot.

“You’ve gotta trust her, Kurt. She’s good, believe me. She’ll take care of our girl.”

Kurt huffed and went back to work under the engine. “Well, it’s about time we landed anyway. We need two engine couplings, and a new compression coil and-”

“Look, Kurt. We’ll have enough credits for the bare essentials. In the meantime, you’ve got to make do. The job ain’t even begun, and you’re already spending money.”

“But Mercedes-”

“You’ll make do. We land in a bit. Get ready to head out.” That was the end of that discussion.

She didn’t like being too firm with her crew, but she didn’t have much of a choice. Credits were running low. That’s what this job was for. She walked back towards the galley, and saw Puck, who was pouring a handful of protein into his mouth.

“Take it easy, Puckerman, there is actually food on this 大便 planet.”

“Buh I wah owngy now.” Puck said around his mouthful.

Mercedes ignored him, and patted him on the shoulder. “Grab your gear, Puck. We’re going to see a man about a job.”

\

On the bridge, Santana watched Brittany carefully. She noticed the way her eyes narrowed as she looked at her instruments, and the way her hands lightly held the controls as she steadily brought Songbird into the landing docks. More than once her eyes graced over Brittany’s pink lips, her golden hair, her long fingers. She hadn’t spent very much alone time with the new pilot, considering that she’d only been onboard the ship for a short time. And Santana didn’t quite know what to think. Mercedes had chosen her because, “she liked the look of her.” But all the same she’d definitely noticed her. The tip of a pink tongue darted out of Brittany’s mouth as she grimaced in concentration.

“Like what you see?”

Santana jumped, nearly falling out of her chair, before straightening and clearing her throat. “Um, huh?

Her voice cracked a little and she cleared her throat again.

“I asked if you liked what you were seeing. You seemed to be enjoying the view from over there.”

Santana stood up, and straightened her vest, smoothing her raven black hair that was tied back in a ponytail.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I was just, um-” She pointed to Brittany’s console. “I was just admiring your plastic dinosaurs. Or, actually, wondering about them. Why do you, um, have them?”

Brittany raised an eyebrow, but turned a beaming smile at Santana. “I dunno. I like dinosaurs, I guess. My dad used to tell me stories about them when I was a kid.”

Santana suddenly had the desire to know more about Brittany’s childhood. Was she still close with her dad, or did they not talk anymore? When was the last time she had seen her family? And why in the gorram hell had she ended up where she’d joined the crew, on Athens, in the middle of nowhere?

Of course, Santana was not the kind of person to ask those types of questions. She stood for a moment, as Brittany looked expectantly at her, and strode over to the console, taking up a dinosaur in her hand.

“好酷.”

Brittany regarded her carefully for a moment, and looked back at the flashing lights of the console.

“I think so, too. We’re landing in a few. Are you joining the Captain on her little expedition?”

“Of course.” Santana said, without any malice. “Where she goes I go.”

“Do you always follow her orders?” Brittany asked, busying herself with pushing buttons and flipping switches.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Because without Mercedes Jones, I would have died during the Unification Wars.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Brittany, and she continued her work, taking control of Songbird, and quietly guiding her into a soft landing.

“Very good.” Said Santana, with a hint of a smile on her lips.

Brittany blushed, ducking her head. “All in a day’s work.”

She pushed a few more buttons, and leaned back from the steering column, folding her hands behind her head.

“What about this Badger guy? Do you really think his job is any good?”

Santana shrugged. “I don’t know if the Cap’n trusts him as far as she can throw him. But when he gives us jobs, we make it out alive, so, she hasn’t shot him yet. Plus, he hasn’t tried to shoot her yet, so he’s got that going for him.”

“Unlike that trouble we had at Whitefall.”

“Exactly.”

Santana turned to go, knowing that Mercedes would be waiting for her in the cargo hold, so they could go and meet their contact.

“Santana.”

There’s was a softness to Brittany’s voice that Santana had never heard before. It stopped her in her tracks, and she felt a shiver go down her spine.

“Y-yes, Brittany?”

“Be careful out there, huh? I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

Santana turned, and caught the playful grin on Brittany’s face. She nodded. “S-sure, Brittany. I’ll see you later.”

Brittany gave her a wink. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Santana went down the ladder quickly, almost missing a few rungs, and walked even more quickly towards the cargo hold. She wasn’t paying much attention and nearly collided with Mike, a boarder they’d picked up a couple of weeks before. The bag he was holding tumbled out of his hands, and syringes and bandages spilled everywhere.

“Uh, sorry, Mike.”

The both bent down to gather the items, and Mike gave her a soft smile. “没问题, Santana. I should have been watching where I was going as well. I know you’re always dangerous after you’ve been spending time on the bridge.”

Santana furrowed her brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that a certain blonde pilot has been flirting with you since she got here, and you don’t seem to notice.”

Santana’s eyebrows went so high they almost reached her hairline. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Chang.”

“Nope. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. And I’ve also seen the dumb look you get in response. You’re pretty blind for a while afterwards.”

“Whatever. Don’t think because you stitched me up a couple weeks ago, I won’t be willing to pop you one.”

Mike held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, fine. I’m just saying. You should talk to her, tell her how you feel.”

Santana rolled her eyes, and shoved the last of the bandages in Mike’s bag. “What have you got all this stuff for? Did someone get hurt?”

“Oh no.” Mike said, laughingly. “I did a quick inventory of the med bay, and was trying to figure out what we should pick up while we’re here. I might even be able to get some hypos that were manufactured this century.”

“Cap’n won’t like that. She’s planning on saving money this trip. Not spending it.”

“Well, Quinn and I have a few credits that we’ve managed to save up. I think it should be enough to get us started.”

As if he were conjuring her up, his sister Quinn marched towards them, her head held high. She looked nothing like Mike, who was tall, with tan skin and round eyes that burned hazel. She was short, blonde, and kind of pale. Santana had never asked why they looked so different from one another, and it never came up. But they called each other brother and sister, and seemed to care quite a bit for one another, so she never pushed it. Besides, they were paying to stay onboard, and wanted to stay as far away from the Alliance as possible, just like she did, so there never was any need to get personal.

Not to mention Mike was a trained physician who would patch them up whenever they ran into trouble. He seemed to be rather good at it, in Santana’s amatuer opinion, and that was worth loads out in the ‘verse. Where things with the Captain tended to get a little hairy more often than not.

However, there was one thing she couldn’t help but notice. While Mike was open and kind, patient and understand, down to earth and casual, his sister was the exact opposite. She was closed off, and watched things on the ship with much too keen an interest for Santana’s taste. She was witty, but sometimes cruel, and seemed to think she was too good for their ship.

Unlike Rachel, Santana simply steered clear of Quinn. Not because she was afraid of her, but because they were paying customers (though Rachel was too), and she had a feeling that Mercedes would never forgive her if she shoved Quinn out of an airlock.

“Oh, Santana.” Quinn only seemed to notice Santana a few moments after her approach, and nodded to her as if she were the help. “Do you know how long we’ll be on the planet’s surface?”

“Sure, Ms. Chang. It’ll be a full day, twenty four hours.”

“Good. Well, let the Captain know that we’re going out. We will be back before night fall.”

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. “Quinn, don’t start this again. You have to stay on the ship. It isn’t safe for you out there.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “So, what, you get to be the only one to walk on solid ground after six weeks because I’m a delicate flower?”

“What? No, that’s not it. It’s just that-” Mike stopped short, looking quickly to Santana. “Sorry, Santana. We’ll, um, go below decks.”

Santana just nodded as Mike ushered Quinn away, both of them still arguing in hushed tones. Their reasons for going or staying had nothing to do with her. She had one job. She walked quickly to the cargo hold, and saw Mercedes waiting for her. Her captain look pretty good, she had to say. She was wearing her long brown duster, one that had served her well for many years during and since the Unification War. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was doing her best to project a calm, powerful aura. Her pistol hung by her side within easy reach, and Santana knew that Mercedes had at least two other guns stashed around her person. The one she nervously tapped on at the moment was an old side shooter that she’d had since before the war. Before the Unification War Mercedes had never even touched a pistol. Her father had given her one to help with pests on the farm, and she’d been loathe to shoot it. It was a single barrell, with a wooden handle rubbed smooth by years of use. The stock shined brightly from generations of gun oil and polishing cloths. After she’d gotten rid of her service pistol, and had felt the blood of another person under her nails, the gun had become her constant companion, and she was never far from it.  

But the Mercedes before her wasn’t the woman she’d met on their first day of boot camp. She wasn’t the enthusiastic leader who made her troops feel safe. She wasn’t even the broken woman who’d watched her friends die. Here she was simply Captain Jones; worried about her crew and her family, and trying to make a better life for them. Santana smiled as she approached.

“Nervous?”

Mercedes blinked. “What? No. Of course not. It’s just a regular job.”

“You can lie to all of them, sir, but you can’t lie to me. You’re doing that thing where you tap your thumb against your holster.”

Mercedes looked down at her right hand, which was indeed hitting the side of her gun. She snatched it away.

“Look-” She began in quiet tones. “You know as well as I do how much we need this job. We can’t keep hoping that the money from Rachel, Beiste and Changs will keep us afloat. We need new capital, 好快. We’re taking this job, and Kurt’s going to try and secure us some passengers. And maybe, _just maybe_ , we can start to turn a profit on this thing.”

Santana nodded, not saying a word. Mercedes was right of course, and she knew it. She felt the familiar butterflies start to circle in her own stomach, but then felt a reassuring pat on her back.

“San, we’ve been in worse spots than this. We’ve got this.”

Santana nodded, feeling a bit of the weight lift off her shoulders, like she often did when her captain comforted her. They didn’t emote very often, honestly. They’d spent countless hours together, hunkered down in bomb shelters, fighting off enemies, floating through space. They knew almost everything there was to know about each other, and they trusted each other. In the end, it was all they had.

The moment was broken as Puck strode in, his favorite gun by his side.

“You ready, Cap’n?

“我的天啊, Puck. You’re bringing the rifle? This is a peaceful gathering. Beth won’t be necessary.”

Puck stroked the gun as though it were a long lost friend. “But, she’ll be lonely otherwise.”

“No buts, Puckerman. You leave it in the mule, and take your standard side piece only.”

Mercedes voice was firm, and Puck didn’t bother arguing. He stowed the gun away and secured his holster.

“Gorramit Cap’n. You said I can’t get any whores, you won’t let me bring Beth. You never let me have any fun.”

“It’s not supposed to be fun, Puck. We do the job, we get paid. I don’t reckon that sentence mentions fun at all.”

The firm edge was gone from Mercedes voice, but Puck got the message.

“Fine. I’m ready when you are.”

Mercedes nodded and looked to Santana, who nodded as well.

“Shiny. Let’s get going.”

\

_Kitty woke up in a hammock._

_She enjoyed it for a moment; swinging back and forth, feeling the warm sun on her face. If there was a better way to spend a long summer afternoon, she hadn’t found it. She grimaced. Wait, no, that was impossible, why would she be in a hammock? If the Lieutenant found her in a hammock, there would be hell to pay. She was probably supposed to be doing KP, and had fallen asleep again . Azimio had tried to cover for her last time, but it wouldn’t work again, and the Lieutenant would have her peeling potatoes for the rest of her natural life. She tried to sit up._

_“Whoa there, private, relax.”_

_A voice sounded above her and she struggled to open her eyes._

_“She’s awake, Mace. Let’s put her down.”_

_“Mat, Sarge says we’ve gotta be back by 0100, and I expect to be. If we’re late, she’ll fry us.”_

_“It doesn’t do any good to have her jostling about. What if she falls out of the sling? Anyway, a minute or two rest won’t hurt us, and we can check her out.”_

_There wasn’t really room for argument, but Mason appreciated his sister giving him the illusion of choice. He sighed and sat the sling down, and squatting beside it._

_Kitty had her eyes back open, and was jolted back to reality. The swinging of the hammock had been the sling that she was being carried on. Even from where she lay she could see the deep blood stains that were set into its fabric. Her own blood had left its mark as well. The two voices belonged to a man and a woman. They were Browncoats, that much was clear. They wore the deep walnut dusters that all members of the rebellion wore, and the red shirts underneath. The looked like simple folk, probably from a back world like she was, far from home, but fighting the good fight. They both had glassy skin the color of eggshells, and dark, black hair that hung in loose curls around their faces. They were related, that much was clear, they looked too much alike to be anything but siblings._

_Mason grabbed some gauze from his bag with a huff. “Fine. Let’s just not waste too much time.”_

_Madison nodded sharply, and stood up, walking away from the him. “I’m going to keep a look out.”_

_Mason didn’t respond, but kept digging through his bag, looking for just the right tools. He pulled out a few more things and felt a set of eyes on him._

_“How are you holding up there, soldier?”_

_Kitty swallowed hard. “I-I’m-.” She cleared her throat a few times, but couldn’t seem to clear it._

_Mason rushed towards her. “I’m sorry. I should have done this first.”_

_He held up a flask to the Kitty’s mouth, letting her drink deeply. “You must be parched.”_

_Kitty didn’t respond, but just took a few more sips of water, nodding when she’d had her fill._

_Mason went back to sorting through his equipment, giving Kitty time to gather her thoughts. Not that this was an easy task. She’d been jolted out of a deep sleep back into this nightmarish hellscape, and she wasn’t too happy about it. But what was the alternative? Spend the rest of her life dreaming away? She tried to sit up, but the pain that had been almost ignorable screamed back to life. Kitty hissed at the sudden pain, grasping the edges of the sling._

_“Hey, hey, 小心. Relax.” Mason squatted beside her, bringing his equipment and giving her leg a friendly pat. “When we found you, you were in pretty bad shape. Thank goodness you’d had the wherewithal to seal your wound up before you bled out. That was good thinking on your part. But you still lost a lot of blood, and we’re going to want to get your wound checked out once we can get to a facility. You just did a patch job, Private, you don’t want to push yourself.”_

_Kitty didn’t respond, but watched Mason carefully as he pulled the fabric away from her leg, and looked at her wound carefully. He began to work steadily, cleaning it of debris and adding another layer of sealant, and finally a bandage. Kitty admired his focus, and his expertise. It was clear he’d done this before, and was very good at it. He gave her a shot of something, ‘for the pain’, and once he’d finished, he cleared away the detris, giving her another sip of water from her flask._

_“Private First Class Mason McCarthy, at your service!” He nodded in the direction that Madison had walked off into. “And that’s my sister, Madison. Corporal Madison McCarthy, and trust me, she won’t let you forget it. Won’t let me forget it either. You’d think that us being twins would mean that we’re better than all that petty birth order 垃圾, and yet here we are. Though, with the way things are going right now, I would be surprised if I was a Corporal by the end of the day.”_

_He strapped the flask back onto his waist and stood up, stretching his legs a bit as he stood nearby._

_“We’re out looking for survivors, and doing what we can. We weren’t supposed to travel far, but we heard your screaming, and found you down at the bottom of the ravine. What were you doing down there anyway?”_

_Kitty didn’t respond, and Private First Class McCarthy didn’t seem to be waiting._

_“Anyway, you must have gotten all turned around, cause you were making a beeline straight for those purple bellies. If we hadn’t of found you when we did, who knows what would have happened. I mean, you probably would have run into them, and that wouldn’t have been good. What with your wound an all. A bit of 晦气 if you ask me. But then lucky for you we spotted you, and brought you here.”_

_Kitty tried to speak, but found her voice scratchy and dry. Mason leaned in close to listen, stopping the flow of nervous chatter that seemed would never end._

_“Company C?” Kitty tried again._

_Mason scratched his head. “You were with Company C, huh? I don’t know anything about them. We’ve been listening to the radio all night, but in shifts, so I might have missed some news-”_

_“Let’s go, Mace. Let’s get her up.”_

_Madison’s voice cut through the darkness, and startled Kitty, she hadn’t even known the other woman was nearby. Kitty found it hard to miss the significant look that Madison gave to her brother, but chose to ignore it._

_“Where?” She croaked, pointing in the direction they were heading._

_“You just sit tight there, Private Wilder.” Madison huffed. “We’re going to see our commanding officer. She’ll know exactly what to do. Shouldn’t be long now.”_

_Kitty focused on the slowly moving scenery and let the combination of the sway of her sling, and whatever Mason had given her lull her back to sleep._

\

Badger’s place wasn’t the most disgusting den of iniquity that Puck had ever been in. Hell, it didn’t even have any _companionship_ that he could take advantage of. But, the Captain had made it clear that he wasn’t supposed to get distracted, so he tried to keep his focus on the job. They’d walked across the Eavesdown Docks, and Puck kept his ears and eyes open, sweeping the perimeter for anyone who looked suspicious. He probably got distracted by some bare leg hanging from an awning once or twice. At most.

This was his second time at Badger’s and the guy wasn’t a role model, but he was a straight shooter, and he and the Captain tended to get along pretty well. He certainly wasn’t worried about an ambush. But the last time he’d gotten distracted flirting with some girl, the Captain had docked his pay, and put him on latrine duty for a month. So, he shook himself and kept an eye out.

He felt like he was doing a pretty good job until they showed up at Badger’s front door, and knocked. It was a nondescript three story shack in Eavesdown. If they hadn’t been here before, Puck might have just walked past the place. But it was a bona fide operation. And Badger kept enough people paid off to keep out the riff raff. The door opened and they found themselves on the barrel end of a pair of rifles.

“See? I told you we should have brought Beth along.” Puck whispered to Mercedes.

She rolled her eyes, and put her hands in the air. “We’re just here to see Badger. He’s expecting us.”

“Just a little precaution, Captain.” Said a voice inside. “Please, a bit of cooperation is all we ask.”

One of the hands holding the rifle reached out, and Mercedes pulled her pistol out of the holster, handing it over. Santana followed suit with the shotgun strapped to her thigh. Puck thought about resisting, but a slight eyebrow raise from the Captain made him rethink his decision.

“Very good. Please, come in.” The voice said again.

Puck could see inside now, and noticed two men standing near the door. They brushed past them, and entered, going through another small door, and to a much more nicely furnished waiting room. Sitting in front of them was Badger. He was a dealer in all kinds of objects, and one of the wealthiest men on the planet, which was saying something as Persephone was one of the more lucrative places of business in the White Sun system.

“Good to see you, Captain Jones. Santana.” Badger smiled thinly.

“If it’s so good to see us, what’s with taking our weapons?” Santana snapped, sneering at Badger.

“Well, it’s more for your protection than ours. The men at the door work for my client. Not particularly good at their jobs, it would seem.” Badger lowered his voice. “They missed the four guns you’ve all got stashed around your bodies, so I would think you’ve got arms to spare, no?”

“Why don’t we quit wasting time reminiscing, and get down to it, Badger?” Mercedes offered, ignoring the remark.

“Of course. I just thought with us being friends and all, it wouldn’t hurt to catch up.”

“We can catch up when you’re giving us the money for a job well done.”

Badger tsked. “You really must be hard up, Captain. I would have thought you’d be turning down jobs with that crack crew of yours.”

Mercedes didn’t respond, but followed Badger as he turned his chair around, and rolled out another door, down a long hallway.

Puck wasn’t sure about Mercedes or Santana, but he was nervous. As far as he knew, Badger usually would tell them the job, they’d do it, get paid and be on their way. None of this cloak and dagger stuff. It didn’t sit well with him. He liked people who would say what they wanted outright, and this certainly was not that. He moved left a few more feet to put some space between himself and Mercedes, conscious of the footsteps that came even farther behind him. He didn’t bother putting his hand in a position to get his gun. He didn’t want anyone watching to know that he still had two weapons on him. But the job they’d done earlier of taking their more obvious weapons didn’t leave him with the impression that they were particularly skilled. He’d have no problem taking them out if it came to that. But, he wanted to be prepared. So, he slowed his steps down a bit more, and followed behind.

The hallway opened up into an office of sorts, and Badger gestured towards some chairs that were set up in the corner. Sitting there was a middle aged guy who Puck had never seen before, looking very pleased with himself. From how much his suit probably cost, he looked like was old money. He followed Mercedes and Santana, and stood behind the two of them.

“Please, have a seat.” The man gestured towards and chairs.

Mercedes didn’t hesitate, having a seat, and Santana took up the position behind her. Puck figured since Santana was standing, he might as well take a load off, and sat next to Mercedes.

“And might we have the pleasure of getting introduced to this fine gentleman?”

Mercedes gestured towards the stranger who smiled.

“My name is Al Motta. You’ve no doubt heard of me. The Motta family is well known in these parts, and all across the White Sun system.”

Al’s voice was pompous and pretentious, and Puck could tell his captain was trying not to roll her eyes.

Mercedes nodded. “Sure, we’ve heard of you.”

“And I’ve heard of you, Captain Jones. Your crew is known to be one that will get the job done and not ask too many questions, and that’s what I need. I have some family business that needs to be taken care of, and I need someone who will do what I ask and not try to get creative, if you catch my meaning.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Motta. I’m not sure I know exactly what you’ve heard of us, but we try to stay out of _family business_.”

The implication was clear to all those involved. The Motta family was as well connected as it got, and they ran everything from weapons to drugs to people. And if they were having problems with another family, the last thing the crew of the Songbird needed was to be caught up in some mafia war. Mercedes shook her head, and made to stand up.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Hold on a moment. It’s not-” Al cleared his throat. “It’s not that kind of family business. It’s much more delicate than that. Please, let me explain.”

Badger interrupted. “I wouldn’t have invited you over here, Captain, if I’d thought for a second this would be a job you’d refuse. Hear the man out.”

Mercedes settled back down into her seat. “Fine.”

“It’s my daughter. Sugar.”

Al’s voice lost that bragging quality, and because much more quiet, more humble.

Mercedes cocked her head but didn’t speak.

“She’s um, well, she’s troublesome. Daughters are sometimes that way. But, she’s my only child, and someday the business will be hers.  She has to be ready.”

“So, where do we come in?”

“I need an escort. A _discreet_ one. Who will take her to an agreed upon location, and get her there safely and in one piece.”

“I don’t get it.” Santana said, breaking in. “Why don’t you just buy her a luxury line ticket across the stars? You’ve got the money for it.”

“I need to make sure she gets there and no one knows. Also, you’ll find her a bit reluctant.”

“Reluctant?” Mercedes said.

“She doesn’t want to go. At all. I’m hiring a guard, so all you have to do is move them to where I want them to be.”

“I assured Mr. Motta that you would be happy to help. For the right price, of course.”

“Of course, of course. I’ve talked it all over with our mutual friend, Mr. Badger, and I think we’ve come to an amount that we can both agree on. And it’s more than reasonable.”

“I got the wave. I wouldn’t have been here otherwise.” Mercedes stood up, and walked towards Al.  “I’ve got one rule, Mr. Motta. Al. Can I call you Al?”

“Certainly. I-”

“I’ve got one rule, Al. We do the job. We get paid. 懂吗?”

“Then it’s a deal? You’ll escort my daughter to Constance?”

Mercedes stuck out her hand, which Al jumped up to shake. “It’s a deal.”

He seemed relieved and even snuck a small smile at Badger, who looked like the cat that caught the canary over there in the corner.

Mercedes released her grip, and nodded to Santana before turning back to Al. “So, where’s our precious cargo?”

Al scoffed. “Well, I certainly couldn’t bring her here. It’s no place for a lady. Present company excluded of course.”

Mercedes laughed, and Santana hocked loudly and spat on the floor.

Al shivered. “She’s at Motta towers. Near the city center. I’ll bring her to the docks tomorrow at dawn. You should be ready to depart by then?”

“We’re certainly planning on it.”

“Good, then I’ll see you then.”

Mercedes nodded, and turned to shake hands with Badger. They were almost out the door when Al spoke up again.

“And remember, Captain Jones. What I said about discretion.”

“Oh, I can assure you, Al, my crew is nothing if not discreet.”

With that, they were back through the darkened hallways, and back on the streets. The market was bustling, and Puck lost himself in the bright and inviting storefronts as the Captain and Santana chatted behind him.

“All of this secrecy for an escort mission to the Red Sun system? Why would Badger put us through all this?” Santana said, an edge in her voice.

“I’m sure he has his reasons. I ain’t going to be the one to question it, quite frankly. And you won’t either. We’ll get his daughter on our boat, get her to where she needs to be, and be done with it. The price that Badger is getting us-”

“That’s the point, sir. The price is too high. For a simple babysitting? He could get people just as good for half the price.”

“I’ve thought about what it means, Santana. I know it’s a stretch, but there ain’t many straight shooters left on this moon, and I trust Badger. Well, trust is a strong word. I like to believe that Badger won’t rob us outright. We don’t have an overabundance of friends here on Persephone. It ain’t like we’ve got much of a choice.”

Mercedes stopped, turning towards Santana. “Anyway, that’s what I keep you around for, right? Thinking of the things I ain’t thought of yet. You’ll keep your eyes open. And I know I can trust you on that.”

Santana made a face, but nodded anyway. “If you think it’s okay, so do I.”

“Good. Then that’s that. Now, let’s get back to the ship and see how Kurt-”

Mercedes paused and her face broke into a smile. Santana followed her line of sight and saw something that brought a smile to her own face.

There in the crowd was a more than welcome sight. It was Shannon Beiste, a passenger on Songbird who’d joined them almost a year ago. She was a big woman with broad shoulders, who was taller and stronger than most of the men Santana had ever met. But, she was a gentle soul. A shepherd by profession, she tended to the lost souls that came their way, and found refuge on Songbird like so many others before her.

They approached Shannon, Puck walking more quickly to shake her hand. The two had a friendly rivalry, always working out on weights in the cargo hold to see who could outlift who. In the end, they got along even better.

Shannon saw them, and smiled. Santana was a step behind Mercedes, and looked cheerful as well, but her smile fell when she saw who was beside the shepherd.

“Why hello my fellow travelers!” Came Rachel’s shrill voice. “I’m so glad we could run into each other here, and spend some time together as a crew. It seems that sometime we don’t do that, and it’s really a shame.”

“Rachel? I thought you had clients?” Mercedes said, jovially.

“I did. And do. But I’m finished for the morning, and thought I would get some shopping done. You won’t see me until tomorrow after this.”

“Thank God for small miracles.” Santana muttered under her breath.

Rachel didn’t hear (or pretended not to), and grasped Mercedes arm. “We’re having a lovely time. While this certainly isn’t the most chic place I’ve ever been to, it’s still got it’s charm. In fact, I was just telling Brittany-”

“Telling me what, Rachel?”

The voice came from behind them, and before Santana could react Brittany threaded her arm through Santana’s own, and was walking beside her. Santana did her best not to stiffen while simultaneously melting into her touch, and managed only a slight hobble as she strained to keep her senses.

“Oh, I was telling you about the charm of this city. Eavesdown does have a certain je ne sais quoi. Let me tell you.”

While Rachel babbled on in front of them, Brittany pulled on Santana’s arm a little, slowing her down, and leaving them a bit behind everyone.

“How’d the meeting go this morning?”

Santana cleared her throat. “Um, it was fine. Captain did the talking, as usual. And the pay is good.”

“What’s the quarry? Bank heist? Train job?”

“Nope, nothing that serious. Just a simple escort mission.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you’ll found out all about it soon enough. I’m not sure how much the Cap’n wants out there. We’re supposed to be playing it close to the chest.”

“Yeah, I understand. It wouldn’t be much fun otherwise.”

Santana looked at Brittany, who was smiling brightly, and smiled herself. “You’re always surprising me, did you know that?”

Brittany looked at Santana, and seemed to smile even brighter. “I’m glad. I like keeping you on your toes, Corporal Lopez.”

Santana didn’t reply, but could feel her face getting warm under Brittany stare. She turned her attention ahead, and groaned as she caught the tail end of Rachel’s speech.

“Oh! This place has a karaoke bar! I know where we’ll be having lunch!”

\

Getting back to the ship had been easy enough after they’d detached themselves from Rachel who only stopped singing (her fifth! song) because she was supposed to be meeting with her client soon. They returned back just in time to see Kurt chatting with a tall man who looked like he hadn’t had an original idea since he came out of the womb. The rest pushed past, but Mercedes stopped for a moment.

“Who’ve we got here, Kurt?”

Kurt gestured between them. “Cap’n, this is Finn Hudson. Finn, this is Captain Jones. She’s the owner of this fine vessel you see before you, Songbird. She’s the one you’ll be paying transit fees to.”

Mercedes reached out her hand and Finn shook it. “Where are you headed, Mr. Hudson?”

“Well, Kurt here was telling me you all might be going to the Red Sun system. I’m going to New Melbourne. I can pay.”

“We might be going that way. Can’t say for certain. Might be a few weeks ‘fore we make landfall at New Melbourne.”

“I’m not too picky. I just need transit. I can pay 120 credits a week.”

Mercedes tried not to show it, but it was certainly a bit more than their usual asking price for boarders. Especially ones that didn’t mind she’d be taking the scenic route to their final destination.

“And what’s your business in New Melbourne, Mr. Hudson?”

“Work. My uncle owns some land out there, and he wants me to take over, get a bead on the family business. It’s not my first choice, but it’s something to do, that’s why I’m in no rush. And he’s paying for it, so I can’t complain.”

Mercedes nodded a few times, and then looked at Kurt. “Why don’t you help Mr. Hudson with his things, and get him squared away. Afterwards you can join me on the bridge. Did you find anyone else?”

Kurt looked away guiltily. “Sorry, Cap’n, this is it. Pretty slow now, tourist season has come and gone, you know.”

Mercedes turned back to Finn. “You can entrust Kurt here with your first weekly installment. It’s good to have you on board.”

With a small smile she turned from the two men, and walked up the loading bay ramp, and onto the ship. It wasn’t perfect, but the small bump in cashy money on hand would help with the things they needed right away. Later, once they got the Motta job done, they’d be in even better shape. Things were looking up for the crew of the Songbird, but Mercedes wouldn’t quite call herself happy. She tended to be a pessimist that way.

“Why the long face, Captain?”

Shannon stepped out of her bunk, climbing the last rung, and coming to a stop beside Mercedes.

“I’m just thinking of all the ways that this can go wrong, Shepherd. And there are more than enough ways for that to happen.”

“Worried about Badger?”

“Santana’s got me thinking. And that’s never good, as, believe it or not, she’s the voice of reason in a lot of things. I’m not a rash person, but this could make or break us, this job. I reckon even if there was a bright, flashing light that said ‘DANGER’ we’d have to take it anyway.”

Shepherd Beiste chuckled to herself. “Santana is the voice of reason?”

“Yeah, I know, I know. She doesn’t say much to you all, but I get earfulls, trust me.” Mercedes laughed as well.

“So, why not say no? There are plenty of jobs to be had. You just have to walk in faith.”

“That’s all well and good for you, Shepherd, but I’ve got five crew, four passengers, and two more on the way that I’ve got to keep in good spirits, and fine food. Not to mention the parts for the ship Kurt keeps asking me for. Songbird is barely hanging on as it is. No, we need this job, we need it, and there’s nothing to be done about it. We’ll face whatever comes, when it comes.”

“That’s a rather lassiez faire attitude, Captain.”

“You sound like Rachel, Shepherd.”

Shannon rolled her eyes, and scoffed. “I love the girl, I do, in the way that we are taught to love and cherish all of God’s creatures, but she would challenge the patience of a saint!”

“I’m surprised that Santana hasn’t shoved her into space already.”

“I would have thought you’d have discouraged that kind of thing, Captain.”

“I didn’t say I’d approve. I do, however, think it would be mighty hi-larious.”

Mercedes and Shannon parted ways, and Mercedes kept walking towards the bridge.

Santana heard her footsteps, and straightened up, trying to pretend that she hadn’t been staring at Brittany for the past ten minutes. Brittany had stopped pretending not to notice, sending a lopsided smile Santana’s way every so often. She liked it when Santana watched her. It made her feel safe and adored. She knew that something was brewing between them, but she didn’t want to push Santana any more than she absolutely had to. After all, she’d only known her for a little over a month. So, she bided her time, and smiled a little too long in Santana’s direction, or held her arm for a little longer than usual. It wasn’t much, but Brittany couldn’t get enough of the way the tips of Santana’s ears turned red when they had their moments. She loved the idea that she could make Santana feel that way.

Brittany heard Mercedes approach as well, and turned back towards the console. She knew what her Captain wanted to figure out their next journey. She really liked Mercedes, actually. She’d known a few Browncoats in her time, and even had done some _interesting_ work during the Unification War, but Mercedes didn’t strike her as one of the meat heads that she usually ran into. She was thoughtful and kind, fiercely loyal, and smart. She trusted her crew, but she didn’t accept people lightly. Her relationship with Santana was even more interesting.

Santana was quiet, but seemed to have a bubbling anger right under the surface. She was what Brittany would call prickly. But Mercedes kept her in check. And since joining the crew, Brittany had gotten glimpses of the two of them that she was sure not many people got the chance to see. They played off each other, and trusted each other.

Brittany smiled as she saw Santana try to get her focus back. She was always such a soldier when Mercedes was around. Brittany wasn’t sure why, but they always seemed fall back into old roles when they were together. Maybe it made things easier for them. She wasn’t exactly sure.

“What are we looking like for take off tomorrow?” Mercedes said, not bothering with a greeting before clambering onto the bridge.

“You should probably talk to Kurt about that, Cedes. We’re shut down at the moment with the repairs that he’s had to make but we should be ready to go soon.”

“Captain, I’ve got a preliminary route plotted out. It’ll take us a few extra days with the stop over in Greenleaf, but I think it should be fine.”

“Good, Santana, bring it up for me.”

Santana touched a few keys on her console, and a holographic projection spread out on the screen.

“According to a wave I got from Tina, there’s a big build up of Alliance cruisers about half way between us and Constance. We’ll head towards Osiris,  double back towards New Melbourne, and then onwards.”

Mercedes nodded. “好啊. That’’ll take us a few extra days, but it’ll be worth it to avoid any purple bellies.”

“Yes, sir. Agreed, sir.”

“New Melbourne?” Brittany broke in. “What are we doing in New Melbourne?”

Mercedes touched a few keys on the pad, bringing up the power levels for the ship. She trusted Kurt wholeheartedly, but liked to check up on things when she had a spare moment.

“We got ourselves a boarder. Just joined today. He’s going there for work, and paying us a bundle for the trip.”

Brittany’s face scrunched into a question mark. “That big, dumb looking guy who we took on in the docks? I dunno, Cap’n, he looks shady. I don’t know if I trust him.”

“Well, he’s paying good credits and I have no intention of turning down the cash. We take him, we do the job, we move on with our lives. And, we can use it. Unless you’ve got any better ideas of how we can make some money fast.”

Mercedes’ sharp tone would have kowtowed most other of the crew mates, but the bright smile returned to Brittany’s face and she only beamed.

“No, ma’am, I reckon I’m plumb out of ideas. New Melbourne it is!”

Whether she was confused by Brittany’s sudden change of heart of not, Mercedes paid her no mind.

“Good. Now, unless you two think of anything else, I’ll be in my bunk, getting some well deserved rest. We’ve gotta be up by sunrise to take care of our newest crew member. Once we get her on board, we break atmo, and get the hell off this godforsaken planet. Any questions?”

Brittany raised her hand like she was back in grade school, and Mercedes rolled her eyes. “Yes, Britt?”

“Can Santana stay up with me for a little while?”

There was a moment of indecision on Mercedes part before she nodded slowly. “I don’t see why not. Though, she really doesn’t need my permission. Why didn’t you ask me yourself, Santana?”

Santana balked. “Sir! I didn’t- She didn’t- I wasn’t-”

Brittany didn’t give her a chance to continue, standing up from her console, and wrapping her arm around Santana’s. “太好了! This is going to be fun. Like a sleepover. Maybe you can come sleep in my bunk, Santana, and we can tell scary stories.”

Mercedes smiled, and left the two to their own devices. It had taken everything she had not to just laugh out loud. The pilot had the biggest crush on her first mate, but it would take forever for Santana to see it. Until then, it would be pretty funny to see Brittany drive her up the wall with her antics. She considered saying something, but it would be much more fun to see Brittany torture Santana until she realized how much she liked her back. She was looking forward to it.

Even though it was barely dusk, Mercedes felt the heavy weight that had settled on her shoulders cause her eyes to droop. It was going to be a long trip to New Melbourne. She could feel it already.


	2. Settling Into Songbird

Sergeant Mercedes Jones had one rule for her soldiers: Look out for each other. 

Of course, she said it in a million different ways, and with a million different techniques, but the idea was the same. Look out for the person beside you, and they’ll look out for you. And when the chips were down, that’s all you could depend on. The feeling extended outward to all of their fellow Browncoats, but there was a limit, and Corporal Madison McCarthy never forgot that. This is the reason she found it so strange that Sarge had sent them out to do a sweep for survivors. Not that they wouldn't want to help their comrades in arms, but with things as crazy as they were she wouldn't have thought her CO would want them out there in all the pandemonium. 

They had been marched all morning, leaving one front for the next, only to find their ranks in shambles and the enemy long gone, replaced with air support. They'd hunkered down, but Sarge had gotten tired of the waiting and asked for volunteers for searchers, a job that she would take the lead on. Her brother, Mason, hadn't wasted any time volunteering. He was always looking for ways to make a good impression. Sarge hated it, called it brown nosing, and said she had no time for it. And, of course, Madison had volunteered as well, because she certainly couldn't have him traipsing off into unknown territory on his own. 

The air was almost electric, and Madison could feel Mason almost vibrating with excitement as they walked the young private Wilde back to where the Balls and Bayonets (the nickname for their squad) had set up shop. But she didn't share any of his enthusiasm. This was still a war, and in war, anything could go wrong. She always tried to remember that, and kept her ear out for any sounds in the horizon. For the last few minutes there had been shelling a few clicks south of where they were, and in the direction that they came from. Madison could see the smoldering ruin that was left once a missile found its target. The Alliance forces had to be shooting at random. There were no big clumps of soldiers to fire at anymore. They had all scattered once the main fighting was over. There were only the stragglers, and Madison couldn't have imagined what type of monsters would be playing target practice with retreating soldiers. No matter what side they were on. As the shelling started again, closer this time, she shuddered and urged her brother to walk faster. 

She didn't know what to think of Private Wilde. She was obviously separated from her fellow soldiers, but as far as Madison knew, Company C had been obliterated beyond almost all recognition. How had she gotten away practically unscathed? As far as Madison could tell, the only injuries she had sustained were from her fall. Madison had seen the piece of metal, shining brightly where it was stained with blood, when she had hoisted the young soldier onto the gurney. She had a lot of questions but she held them. Sarge would know exactly what to say and how to say it, they only had to reach her. 

They were almost to the rest of the group, maybe only a few kilometers away, when she felt it. At first it was a low rumbling, a deep bass sound that she could feel in her chest. She almost ignored it. She would have completely, if she hadn't heard the sound of the Sarge echoing through her memory. 

“Ultrasonic frequencies, cadet!!! Very low, very powerful! You'll feel it in your spirit!” Sergeant Jones would slap her hard in the chest at this point, and Madison would do her best to hold the gaze. “Then you'd better move like hell, cause your time on this plane is running out.” 

The rumble, which was increasing in volume, shook Madison back to the present and she stopped in her tracks. 

“什么-” Mason started, but she cut him off. 

“Missiles incoming. DEWS. “ She said quickly, as her eyes scanned the horizon. 

She didn't wait another moment before she was dragging ahead of Mason and headed towards an outcropping of stone and debris. She'd been doing as Sarge taught her, looking as she walked for places to hide, should that become necessary. And she knew where she wanted to go, and was moving in that direction even before her brain fully caught up. 

“This way.”

Luckily, Mason was good at following orders and fell into step behind her. They dashed for the outcropping as the low drone became a high pitched whine. She continued repeating the words to herself like a mantra. 

“It's just target practice, they don't know we’re here. They don't know where we are.” 

Between the two of them, they managed to roll the Private off the sling and under the outcropping, rolling the sling and tucking beside her. They then ducked in behind her, pulling their knees to their chest as tightly as they could. 

Madison didn't stop her mantra and she could feel Mason saying it with her. She grabbed his hand and held on tight. 

They say the worst part of sitting through a missile strike is all the waiting. 

Madison had been through this before in training. Sitting under cover (it was a certified anti-air assault covering, rated for up to 120 kilotons), waiting for the high pitched screaming to start that would signify they were under fire. She’d done it plenty of times in training. But always in simulation. The sounds and sights were as real as could be, but the damage was not. She never remembered sitting with her heart so far in her throat she couldn’t speak. She didn’t remember the terror in her twin brother’s eyes directed back into her own. She didn’t remember the fear turning her blood to ice, and the trembling stopping only when she dug deep in herself and willed her limbs to still. This was like nothing she had experienced before. She’d never minded the waiting before, but as she sat there, and every second felt like an hour, and every minute felt like a day, she had never been so miserable. The sounds grew louder and louder around them, and suddenly, with one loud crash, the world was on fire. 

Debris flew all around them, as everything smaller than the boulder they were currently crouched under exploded in a hundred different directions. The air was filled with rubble, and Madison pulled her helmet low on her head, and pulled her knees closer to her chest, burying her face, but she didn’t let go of Mason’s hand.

The sound was overwhelming. Almost like an oppressive force that pushed them down towards the ground, and Madison struggled to stay up. While the calm before the shelling seemed to last forever, before Madison knew it, the sounds stopped. She lifted her head quickly, and felt Mason do the same. 

“Is it over?” He whispered. 

“I’m going to check-”

Madison barely got her words out before there was a shuffling beside her and Private Wilde was up from under the cover of the boulder, and hobbling towards the direction they had been heading in. The direction of Sarge and the camp. If any of those worthless purple bellies were watching, she’d lead them right to their squad. Madison stood up quickly. 

“肏你妈! The medicine must have worn off. If she gets to them-”

As usual, Mason knew what she was going to say before she even finished. He stood up and raced after the soldier. Madison took a moment to look for the sky and say a quick prayer before she fell in behind. 

\

Morning on Songbird was a time of activity. Shepherd Beiste could be counted on to be an early riser. She would make psalms and do quiet contemplation in the loading dock, careful to keep it down, so she wouldn’t disturb anyone. Mercedes would say good morning, and head to the bridge, making sure that Brittany hadn’t left any important switches turned on (she was a bit of a worrier in that way), and to check the wave to see if there were any new messages. Rachel would be up next, and once she was up, everyone would soon follow. She made it a habit to bathe every morning, and she always sang while she bathed. Loudly.  Most of the crew had come to Mercedes at one time or another to complain about the early morning serenade, but she hadn’t found a better way yet to make sure that Puck got up before mid afternoon, so she left things alone. 

After some grumbling, they’d all meet in the kitchen for breakfast, and whoever’s turn it was to prepare the meal would set the table and ready the protein. They had been at dock for a few days, and Kurt had managed to scrounge up some actual fruit and bread, so they made use of that, enjoying the fare that could be obtained while one wasn’t launched out into space. 

It was almost a festive scene. All clanking glasses, and silverware scraping. Mike and Brittany were in the midst of a joke contest and Puck was trying to convince Kurt that the best liquor to ever be found was on a moon around Deadwood that would serve it to you in a little glass bottle shaped like a skull. Mercedes got up to refill her tea and heard a voice beside her. 

“They’re an all right bunch, I suppose.”

She’d been aware of the presence, but was surprised to find out who it belonged to. 

“I reckon so, Ms. Chang. They’re my bunch and I’m stuck with ‘em.”

Quinn laughed that feathery laugh of hers. Not too jovial, but with just the air of geniality. Like someone had told an off color joke that she didn’t dare laugh too loudly at, for fear of a stern look from across the ballroom. 

“Yes, I suppose so. I guess it’s all part and parcel.”

“And whaddya mean by that, Ms. Chang?”

Quinn seemed to think about this for a moment, as if she were puzzled by her own words. “I suppose I don’t know exactly what I mean, Captain Jones. But, I’m glad that we’re here with you, instead of someplace on the other side of the galaxy.”

Mercedes took a sip of her tea, and slowly looked back to Quinn. “Well, I suppose, begging your pardon, Ms. Chang, that one of these days you’ll have to tell me what you and your brother are up to what’s got you fleeing from the Alliance this far from the core planets.”

The softness left Quinn’s face, and she regarded Mercedes seriously. “As long as we’re paying you good credits,  _ Captain _ -” The title left her mouth with a snap. “Then we’ll kindly ask you to mind your own business.”

Mercedes wanted to let Quinn know that whatever was happening on board her ship, was her business, but she figured there was a time and place for that. She only gave Quinn a small nod, and walked back to her place at the table. 

She caught the group at just the right moment as Brittany started up a new joke. 

“Ok, so, this is a good one. What’s the difference between a poorly dressed woman on a bicycle, and a well dressed woman on a unicycle?”

Mercedes watched them closely. Kurt, Mike and Santana sat nearby, watching Brittany’s face intently. Mercedes couldn’t help but notice the way that her first mate sat close to the pilot, her face lighting up in a hundred different ways, a soft smile on her lips as she looked up at Brittany. Mercedes had seen a crush before, she’d seen love before, heck, she’d felt it herself at some points in her distant past. But she’d never, ever, before seen Santana act the way she did around Brittany. She was less like the ferocious guard dog that she’d been during the entire span of the Unification Wars, and more like a sweet kitten, curling up in Brittany’s lap for a soft scratch behind the ears. It was certainly something to see. She only hoped that Santana wouldn’t be too afraid to jump in and truly let Brittany know how she felt. Luckily for her, Mercedes could see that Brittany felt the same way. 

There was a pause as folks thought about Brittany’s joke, and she even repeated the question a few more times as the rest of the crew tuned in and tried to figure it out. After a minute or so of wrong answers, everyone was practically begging for the punchline, and Brittany seemed to be ready to give it. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll only tell you if Santana does something special for me.”

The crew ooohed and aaahed for a few seconds, and it was hard to tell in Santana’s deep caramel complexion, but if Mercedes had to guess, she would have sworn Santana was blushing. 

“W-what-” Santana cleared her throat and started again. “What is it, Britt?”

Brittany smiled cheekily at the group, and leaned down, whispering in Santana’s ear. And after hearing what was whispered, Santana’s eyes went wide, as if she were a school girl who’d just heard a naughty word.

“B-britt, I can’t do that. I just-”

Before anyone could reply, Brittany’s comm pad beeped, signifying that their early morning guest was about to make an appearance. 

She stood up and made to leave the mess hall. “Well, I suppose if she won’t do it, you all will never know.”

Everyone groaned, and Kurt tapped Santana’s shoulder. “Please, Santana! This is gonna to be a good one.”

Mike chimed in as well. “I’m sure you’d like to know as much as we would. And if we don’t hear it, we won’t know for sure who won the competition.”

Puck threw a napkin at Santana. “C’mon, Lopez. I gotta know the end of this thing!”

“Puckerman, you try that again, you’re eating this napkin.” She growled, giving a dark look to Puck who shrunk back a few inches. 

Brittany rocked back on her heels, an innocent look covering her face. “Santanaaa.” She said in a sing song-y voice. “I’ve gotta go to the bridge.”

“Fine, fine.” Santana said, grabbing the napkin that Puck had thrown at her, and wringing it in her hands. 

Everyone moved forward in their chairs as Santana walked over to Brittany. Shepherd Beiste had a grin on her face as she watched the fun, and Rachel was almost swooning, she thought it was so romantic. Even Quinn was leaning forward as she watched Santana approach. 

Brittany leaned forward, turning her cheek towards Santana. 

“Just one?” Santana said, shakily.

Brittany nodded happily, and Santana approached with caution, and ever so quickly, leaned in, and kissed Brittany soundly on the cheek. 

In that moment the room exploded as everyone hooped and hollered, Puck collapsing to the floor in a fit of pique. Mercedes smiled softly to herself. She’d underestimated Brittany. She’d pull Santana out of her shell, yet. 

Brittany turned once again to go, but there was a voice that stopped her. 

“The joke, Britt!” Puck yelled from the floor. 

Brittany stopped in the doorway, and spun around, hanging languidly from the frame, as if Santana’s kiss had turned her bones into jelly. 

“Ah yes! What’s the difference between a poorly dressed woman on a bicycle, and a well dressed woman on a unicycle?”

She paused for a moment and then winked at Santana, spreading her arms wide as if she were a magician revealing a successful illusion. 

“Attire!”

With that Brittany was out the mess hall, and down the hall, with only the sounds of boos and boisterous laughter following her. 

\

Santana considered it a small mercy that Mercedes didn’t mention what happened in the dining room. Of course, Brittany had been messing with her. She didn’t know why the pilot had asked her to do what she’d done (Santana didn’t know what she even did it!), but she couldn’t find it in herself to be angry. That’s just who Brittany was. She liked to joke around, she liked to kid, and she liked to touch and hug. It didn’t mean anything more that Brittany asked her for a kiss than when Brittany sat on Kurt’s lap and ruffled his hair. Of course, it felt different to Santana, Brittany could sit in Kurt’s lap all day, and he wouldn’t feel a thing. She wasn’t exactly his type. She sighed deeply. 

“Santana?”

Mercedes voice jolted her back to the present. They were standing in the loading bay, waiting patiently for the hatch to open as Brittany worked the door from the cockpit. Her Captain’s voice had another effect: breaking her out of her reverie and right back into soldier mode. 

Santana all but snapped to attention. “Sir?”

“No need for all the formality, San. I just wanted to get you out of your own head. We’ve gotta roll out the welcome wagon for this girl, and make sure that she’s well taken care of. Mr. Motta seemed to hold her in very high esteem.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mercedes sighed. She wouldn’t bring up the incident in the dining room, that would only embarrass Santana more, but she’d rather they cleared the air before the young Motta appeared. 

“When was the last time you spent some time with someone, San?”

Santana tried to puzzle that one out. “Spent time with someone, sir?”

“I’m speaking of romantic entanglements.”

Santana blanched, then struggled to collect herself. “I reckon it’s been a while, sir.”

Mercedes thought for a moment. “There’s nothing wrong with it. Even all the way out here.” Mercedes gestured towards the ship. “In fact, there something to be said for finding love out here in the black.”

Santana only nodded, looking closely at the floor. 

“Sometimes,” Mercedes started, walking towards the slowly opening door. “Things can be as clear or as cloudy as we want them to be.” 

Santana didn’t get a chance to respond as she followed behind Mercedes because as soon as the door opened, the sounds of screaming overtook the loading dock. 

“I’ll have you know that as soon as I tell Daddy how you two manhandled me, they’re never going to FIND THE PIECES! You idiotic piles of protein! If you don’t put me down right now, I am going to KICK YOUR ASSES!”

Two bulky men in black suits marched up the loading bay ramp, and while one of them carried a small bag, Santana smirked at the squirming bundle that the other had hiked over his shoulder. She had to give it to that Motta kid. She really knew how to put up a fight. If Santana were in her shoes, she probably would have left the bodyguards with a couple black eyes. Of course, later on, she’d spent most of the trip crying her eyes out. She wondered why Al Motta had found it necessary to send Sugar away. If Santana were more nosey, she probably could have found out. But Motta family business was just that, and she didn’t want to think about what might happen if she asked too many questions. 

The voice piped up again. “I said PUT ME DOWN!”

The kicking became more exaggerated, and the guard holding (what Santana assumed was) Sugar grimaced as he tried to hold on tight. The other guard ignored the screaming, and nodded to Mercedes. 

“Captain Jones, I presume?’

Mercedes smirked. “Well, I sure hope so, as this is the Songbird, and her Captain goes by the name of Jones.”

The man didn’t seem amused. He only nodded to his companion, who hefted the struggling bundle, and set it down on the steps with a thump. 

“Mr. Motta will be sending a wave to check on his daughter. I assume you make her as comfortable as possible.”

Santana felt her own amusement grow as she watched the burly guard delicately uncinch a drawstring, and unfurl all of the glory of Ms. Sugar Motta. 

She shrugged off the sack fitfully. “怎么满啊! It’s about time!”

The guard made his frantic apologies, and brushed off her clothes, doing his best to smooth out any wrinkles that he saw while simultaneously muttering about how such drastic measures were necessary to avoid anyone seeing Sugar while she was making her escape. Santana took the chance to have a good long look at Sugar, who she’d never confuse for someone from the outer rim. She wore animal prints in colors and patterns that Santana had never seen before in combination, and her auburn hair was sticking out in awkward directions as she had it tied up in interesting combinations. 

“Can I help you?”

Sugar’s sharp voice forced Santana to focus on her face. Specifically the angry expression on her face that was currently being pointed in her direction. Santana couldn’t be bothered with getting into it with someone who was barely more than cargo. 

She shrugged. “I doubt it. Come this way, I’ll show you to your bunk.”

Sugar paused for a moment, and then followed Santana out of the cargo bay, and Mercedes waited behind, until they were far enough away, then approached the two men. It was then that Mercedes realized that the two men were nearly indistinguishable from one another. They wore identical black suits with white shirts and black ties. They also wore sunglasses that covered their eyes, and made identification even more difficult. She had no idea if she’d been talking to the first, the second, or both since they made their entrance. The small bag that one had been carrying during their dramatic entrance sat on the ground between them, and it was hard even to tell who’d been carrying it. 

She looked back and forth between them, and picked one at random. “The pay?”

The one nearest to her reached into his pocket, and with a flash, Mercedes’ hand was on her gun. She didn’t pull it from the holster, but she slid it high, and had the hammer pulled when she saw a flash of brown, and packet of money that the guard pulled out. She relaxed, and slid the gun back into place. 

“Half now, and half on arrival.” The guard said, reaching out the packet. 

Mercedes reached for it, careful not to seem too eager, and rifled through the cash. “Who will I meet for the rest?”

“She’ll be the same person you’re meeting in Constance. All of the instructions will be given to you by wave. Mr. Motta will be contacting you directly. Less of a chance of anyone else finding out that way.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” Mercedes deadpanned. “Anyway, I thought one of you was supposed to be sticking around. Acting as bodyguard or some such.”

There was a moment of indecision between the two before they looked back to Mercedes. 

“Mr. Motta feels it would be safer if she went alone. If you run into any Alliance trouble it will make her stand out a lot less. That was his reasoning anyway.”

Of course Mercedes had no intention of running into any Alliance at all, but less meat heads around taking up all the oxygen would be welcome. Anyway, they had more than enough muscle to protect Sugar well enough should it come to that. 

One of them (Mercedes still couldn’t tell who was who), reached down, picking up the bag, and placing it at Mercedes’ feet. 

“This contains some of Ms. Motta’s personal possessions. Please make sure that she gets them.”

“Will do.” Mercedes said, nodding. “Anything else?”

The men shook their heads, and made to turn off the ramp, but one turned back. “You’ll want to, um, her voice.”

Mercedes furrowed her brow in confusion. “Huh?”

“I mean, her singing. It’s, um, less than ideal.”

The other slapped the first, and shushed him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Her voice is amazing, and we love to listen to her singing.”

The first looked ashamed, and tried to talk again. “I just figured it’d be good to warn them-”

“There’s no warning necessary.” He said, giving his partner a firm look. “Her voice is amazing and we LOVE to hear her singing.”

There seemed to be some disagreement, but Mercedes paid it no mind. Whatever their issue was with Sugar’s singing wouldn’t be hers, as she had no plans to spend any more time with Sugar than was necessary to make sure that she got the rest of her pay. She watched the two men argue down the ramp and pulled out her radio. 

“The cargo’s on board. Let’s wrap it up, Britt.”

There was a static-y silence before Brittany piped up from the flight deck. “Aye Aye Captain! Preparing for departure.”

There was a louder crackle as Brittany got onto the main speaker. “Ladies and Gentlepeople, prepare yourselves for departure. We will vacating the fine city of Eavesdown very shortly. By the way, has anybody seen Rachel? She might be a little cross if we leave her behind.”

Santana stopped for a moment in front of the ladder to the upper bunks, where Sugar would be spending her time aboard the Songbird, and chuckled to herself. 

“Who’s that?” Sugar asked. 

“Oh, Rachel? She’s already back on board, She finished with her clients this morning, and is probably getting ready to sleep all day. But she’ll hate that announcement, I wish I could see her face.”

“No.” Sugar said, looking up at the ladder distastefully, before stepping onto the first rung. “The person doing the announcement. She seems to think she’s funny.”

Santana narrowed her eyes. “She  **is** funny, and she’s our pilot, and if you’ve got a problem with her, you’ve got one with me.”

Sugar paused and looked back at Santana. She focused on Santana a minute before continuing up the ladder. “Sorry, I can’t help it. My daddy says that I just say the first thing that comes out of my mouth. But, nobody’s ever called me out on it before.”

“So what, are you going to tell your Daddy?”

Sugar only shrugged and continued up the ladder. Santana followed and opened the shuttle door, showing Sugar inside. The room had been Kurt’s for a while, but he took to sleeping in the engine room, so Mercedes had simply taken down the posters of men in strapping military uniforms, but kept up the floral arrangements and soft lighting. Everything else was standard, though this room was a bit bigger than the others. Bed, sink, desk, and a single chair. It wasn’t much, but besides Rachel’s room (which she’d decorated at her own expense), it was the most luxurious of the bunch. And Sugar had it all to herself. 

“This is where I’m supposed to live?” Sugar said, not even bothering to hide her disgust. 

“Yep. And it’s even got it’s own toilet right down the hall.”

Sugar wrinkled her nose. “This is awful.”

“Well, if you wanted a first class ship, this is not it. This is the Songbird. It’s a Firefly-class vessel, and it gets the job done. But she ain’t pretty. And she’s what your daddy paid for. So, get used to it.”

Sugar deflated, but didn’t respond, and Santana couldn’t help but take pity on her. 

“Look, kid. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have your parents send you away the way Mr. Motta did you, but, this’ll be your home for the next couple weeks, so let’s make the most of it, ok?”

Sugar nodded, and Santana patted her gently on the shoulder. 

“Wait a second.” Sugar said, her voice returning to the previous high volume. “Where’s my bag?!”

“Right here.” Came a voice from the hallway. They turned and Mercedes stood in the doorway. She slung the bag down onto the ground at their feet with a thump. “And it’s pretty heavy too.”

Sugar beamed. “Well, thanks for the help, Captain. I haven’t had breakfast so I’ll expect lunchin my room in half an hour. You can also bring a tub-”

Mercedes held up a hand. “Meals are in a schedule, one of the crew is on duty for it, and everyone eats in the dining room. Brittany’ll make an announcement when it’s time to head over there. Right now, there’s still some fresh things, but that’ll dry up before too long as we get farther from port. Showers are once every other day. You’ll get a schedule, and you can clean up in the sink in your room when if you’d like, but there’s a cap on the amount of water you can use everyday. It’s cleaned and recycled. Also, you’re allowed anywhere on the ship but stay out of the cargo holds unless you’ve got one of the crew with you, and stay out of the engine room.”

“This place is like a prison!” Sugar huffed, sitting down on the bed petulantly. 

“Oh trust me, I’ve been to prison, this place beats it by a mile.” Mercedes responded. “Oh, and if you have any more questions, you can ask First Mate Santana.”

“Sir? Can I talk to you-”

“I’ve gotta go check on Kurt and make sure we’re primed for takeoff. Have fun ladies.” Mercedes made a beeline for the door before Santana could stop her, and she was left alone, once again, with Sugar. 

\

Rachel was furious. She was a paying customer, and was paying just as much as everyone else (if not more!) This was an injustice of the highest caliber, and if she could get Captain Jones to herself, she’d give her an earful! Unfortunately for her, it seemed that since they’d left Persephone it seemed like every time she entered a room, Captain Jones had just left. It had already been three days traveling, and she was almost at her wit’s end. 

And it was all Sugar Motta’s fault. 

She’d first run into the loud girl in the hallway, where she’d refused to make way for Rachel’s prized boa collection. Later in the dining room, Sugar had taken the spotlight away from her with a ‘riveting’ story about the time that her father gave her an entire moon as a present. And the rudeness, the insensitivity, her ability to be loud all the time would be something Rachel could forgive. One might say she was sometimes a victim of these issues. But, could never forgive Sugar’s voice. 

When she sang, which was loudly and often, she sounded like a foghorn that had a baby with a beached whale, which was always stubbing its toe on an ill tuned tuba. 

Rachel had heard bad singing before. She’d been subjected to that when she was a child at the orphanage, where all the children were taught hymnals to sing after mass. Even the most tone deaf child would drone alone with the nuns or risk getting a swatting. Rachel learned to overpower every other voice, until the only sound left was her powerful soprano drowning out the weaker ones, and filling the chapel with sweet vibrato. But Sugar’s voice was something else. Not only was she bad at singing, but the sheer presumption of her voice is what made it hard for Rachel to swallow. The way that she absolutely refused correction. The way that she truly believed that her voice was one for the ages. Especially when it certainly was not. 

At first, Rachel did her best to ignore it. When she’d hear the out of tune warbling going on in the shower room, she’d turn around and head the other way. When she’d walk past the mess hall, and catch even the slightest hint of that brazing squawking, she’d find someplace else to be. But when she’d gone to the cockpit to look for Mercedes and found Brittany and Santana sitting as a rapt audience to Sugar belting out one of the old Browncoat songs Rachel couldn’t take it anymore. She wasn’t trying to be a diva, but this ship only had room for one singing ingenue, and that person was Rachel Berry. 

She was coming up the ladder into the main hall when she caught a glimpse of tan slacks that she knew belonged to their stalwart captain. 

“Captain Jones. Oh, Captain Jones, can I trouble you for a second?”

The leg disappeared, and Rachel followed, determined not to let the opportunity pass her by. She knew that Mercedes’ bunk was in the exact opposite direction, so if she could keep her from doubling back, she’d have her trapped.

Another turn and the calf became a full leg. “Captain. Captain Jones-”

It was out of sight again, and Rachel hiked up her skirts and began to jog after. With the next turn the leg became a body, and Rachel gave up all pretense and began flat out running behind Mercedes. Another turn and her arms came in sight, and one last turn brought Mercedes to a dead end. 

“Captain...Jones…” Rachel gasped, bending at the waist as she tried to catch her breath. 

Mercedes knew she was caught (how she managed to run into a dead end on her own ship was a mystery to her) and turned to greet Rachel warmly. 

“Why Ms. Berry! I didn't hear you behind me. How are you this fine day?”

Rachel did her best to ignore Mercedes’ determined attempt to get away from her and focus on the problem at hand. 

“It's Sugar Motta, Mercedes, you've got to deal with her.” 

Mercedes shook her head. “I'm not entirely sure what you mean by ‘deal with her’, Rachel. I can't exactly kick her off the boat. Now, we got paid to do a job, and we’re gonna do it. You're going to have to get over your little rivalry-” 

Mercedes was cut off as Rachel made a strangling sound and her beige skin began to turn a burning red.

“Rivals?!” She squeaked. “Captain Jones if you think her skill even begins to rival mine-!” 

Mercedes out her hands up, desperate to diffuse the situation. Rachel was a paying customer and a long term one at that, she had no intention of disrespecting her, no matter how easy that was to do. Of course, she also liked Rachel, and hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. 

“休息, Rachel. I just meant that you two clearly have a touch of friction, and that’s up to y’all to figure out. I don’t want to be in the middle of it, but I think you’re both trying your best-”

“You’re sticking up for her because her father is Al Motta! He’s a big fish in this pond, and you don’t want to cross him!”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “Well, I reckon you wouldn’t want to cross the Motta family either, but it’s not about that. Yes, Sugar has  _ certain _ personality traits that one might consider a mite taxing, but she’s not so different than you.”

Mercedes didn’t take this opportunity to mention how annoying she thought they both were. 

“She is passionate about music, and she actually tends to like people, so I think we should just let bygones be bygones.”

Rachel huffed angrily, but didn’t reply. 

“Now, I trust this will be the last I hear of you for a while?” Mercedes said, hopefully. 

“Oh, I certainly couldn’t make a promise like that, Captain.”

Mercedes tried her best to hold her tongue, and only watched quietly as Rachel made her way back down the gangway. 

“Captain.”

Mercedes didn’t have to turn to recognize the purr in that voice. 

“Ms. Chang. We meet again. Are you following me?”

“Oh please.” Quinn made her way towards Mercedes, getting close enough for conversation, but as far as the narrow corridor would allow. “This ship is so small, I find that any amount of time I spend wandering leads me to bump into you at all hours.”

“Glad to see it’s such a pleasant experience for you.”

Quinn laughed, a deep throaty thing that Mercedes noticed immediately. 

“Sorry, of course, Captain, it’s always good to know you’re around. I certainly feel safer when you are.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Well, yes. I have Mike, of course, and he’s as brave as they come, but he’s a doctor. He’s meant to heal people. He doesn’t it quite well, of course, but he doesn’t have the stomach to do harm. It’s literally his oath. He doesn’t have the stomach to kill.”

Mercedes turned more fully to Quinn, taking a step closer. “And me?”

Quinn’s eyes flashed down for a moment, and then they returned to look into Mercedes eyes. “I’m positive you’re no threat to anyone you hold dear, but I would not want to be opposite of you on any point that mattered.”

Mercedes returned the fierce glare for a moment before she smiled slightly. “Well, the way things are turning out, I don’t think you’ll run into that problem.”

“I hope not.”

There was a moment of silence before a distant clang broke the spell, and Mercedes cleared her throat, gave a small nod, and left Quinn in the lonely hallway.

\

Corporal Santana Lopez looked through the binoculars carefully, scanning the horizon from where she stood. She pushed a small button turning off the night vision, hoping to get more clarity. When that didn’t work, she activated motion sensors, still nothing. Then another button turning the color spectrum deep blue, hoping to see some brown out in the distance. The only thing she saw was the same thing that had been staring at her for the last half an hour. 

Nothing.

“Gorramit.”

The private keeping her company, Tina Cohen-Chang, made a soft squeak. “Sergeant Jones isn’t going to like it if she hears you swearing, ma’am.”

There was a brief pause, and Santana rounded on Tina, pointing at her with the binoculars. 

“And who’s going to tell her, you?”

Tina took a step back, but knew she wasn’t in any real danger. Santana was mostly bite, the rest bark, and anyway, she was just frustrated. 

“Of course not, Corporal, but she might hear you if you’re making all that racket.”

Santana gripped the binocs tightly in her hand, and made to throw them, but paused, setting them down gently beside her. 

“他妈的! They were supposed to be back by now! They were only going a few clicks out, and then they were supposed to come back. Where in the gorram hell are they?!”

“Corporal, they would have radioed us if there was trouble. If they’re not, that means they’re keeping a low profile. They’re trying to be safe.”

“And if they’re lying at the bottom of a ditch somewhere. Shot to pieces by those 狗屎 purple bellies.”

“Well, maybe you should try to be a bit more positive.”

“And maybe you should shut the hell up.”

“Corporal-”

Tina’s thought was cut off as a high pitched whine filled the air. Santana didn’t hesitate a moment before grabbing Tina’s arm and nearly throwing her back inside their base. 

“DEWS. Get in. Stay in. Find the Sergeant.”

Tina didn’t even take a moment to nod before scrambling inside.

Santana reached for her binocs and got low, scanning the skies for the enemy UAVs which could drop a bomb on them at a second’s notice. She knew that the enemy had no idea where they were, but that certainly wouldn’t stop them from razing every square inch of ground until they hit something. That’s just how sick those sadistic sons of bitches where. Here they were, in Serenity Valley, outmanned, outnumbered, and out planned. Really, at the mercy of the Alliance forces. But their opponents wouldn’t let up. They wouldn’t even give them a moment to breathe. Santana had joined up with the Browncoats because she’d believed in their cause, and she would fight for it with every breath she had, but there was something in her that mourned for all of her fellow soldiers who would die because of Alliance cruelty. 

As the bombs started to fall, Santana laid flat on the ground, covered by the awning that had been set up. She knew that the bombs were falling a good distance away, but she didn’t want to take any chances. 

Once the shelling stopped, Santana counted to ten, and stood up, skimming the horizon for any movement. Something was out there. The shots they’d fired had been longer and more spread out than the earlier fishing sessions. But even now as she frantically strained to catch even a glimpse of the slightest break in the landscape, she saw nothing. She almost turned and went back inside. Sergeant Jones would be looking for her. She’d want a full report, or as much as Santana could give. She’d want times, coordinates, numbers and names. And Santana needed to get back inside, go over reports, and check instruments. But even the off chance that someone was out there, that one of the three duos that Mercedes had sent to look for survivors was on it’s way back, or worse, stuck under heavy Alliance fire… Well, that made her hold her position for just another moment longer. 

Then she saw it. 

Later on, when she sits ramrod straight up in her bed, panting, beads of sweat pouring off of her, Santana will remember this moment as clearly as she sees it now. She will remember the heat that rose up from the ground, even though the blanket of night touched everything around them. She will remember the smell. DEWS have a very distinct aroma. Like blood that’s been mixed with vinegar. It’s a pungent, heady smell that gets into your clothes so bad that you’d rather throw a uniform away than wear it again. She will remember the sound. It was a distant faint scuttle, and then a rhythmic thump. One after another. Like a wagon with a bum wheel, or a heart that beats out of time. 

Santana looked out, and suddenly there they were. As clear as day. Two figures running towards the base that they’d carved into the ground there. Well, one was running. The other was hobbling. Santana shoved the field glasses up to her eyes, not even wincing as they smacked into her face. It was McCarthy, at least one of them. The boy. She never had a lot of time for that one. He didn’t seem to have his head screwed on tight. But his sister was another matter. She was destined for great things, and Santana didn’t have to see much of her to know that. The other person who was running, no, this was the hobbling one, that person was someone Santana hadn’t seen before. She was blonde and Santana couldn’t be sure, but it looked like she had a big ‘C’ on her shoulder patch. If she was with company C she had to be the last one left. As far as Santana knew they’d been taken out after a huge attack the day before. There weren’t supposed to have been any survivors. 

Santana held her breath, silently willing the two bodies forward. Boy McCarthy was catching up with Company C, but they were out in the open, with absolutely no cover. It certainly wasn’t the best position to find themselves in. 

A rustling behind her told Santana she had company. She recognized the footsteps immediately, and snapped to attention. 

“Sergeant Jones.”

Mercedes patted her on the shoulder. “At ease, Corporal. Update me.”

“There’s two coming this way, Sarge.” Santana said, handing Mercedes the goggles. “DEWS stopped a few minutes ago, but it’s not good. Boy McCarthy and another one that I don’t recognize. Maybe from Company C. Girl McCarthy is nowhere in sight.”

Mercedes took the binoculars, and smiled tightly. “One of these days you’re going to have to learn their ranks, Santana.”

“What are we going to do, Sarge? It’s only a few minutes-”

“Let’s give them some cover. Tina, get Blaine and head to the parapets. We need to buy them some time.” Mercedes grabbed Tina’s arm before she scurried away. “You wait for my signal. I don’t care what happens, but you don’t do a thing without my signal, you hear me? Not one move.”

Tina nodded sharply. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good girl.” Mercedes patted her firmly on the shoulder, shoving her towards the door. “Now get. 现在!”

Tina moved inside to follow the orders, and Santana went to stand beside Mercedes. 

“But, Sarge, we do that, we give away our position. They’ll know exactly where to hit us.” She said quietly. 

Mercedes went to kneel in front of a equipment chest, pulling out grenades, and stuffing them into the pockets of her uniform. “That’s why I’m hoping they won’t have to. But if worst comes to worst, I’d rather they’re trying to hit us in the bunkers rather than folks with nothing over their heads but the open sky.”

Santana looked on skeptically for a moment, before stepping forward, grabbing a few grenades, and putting them in her own pockets. 

“Don’t you want to know what the plan is?” Mercedes, even in the midst of all the danger, still managed a grin with the smallest amount of sass in it. 

Santana was in no mood, but raised her eyebrows. “It’s your plan, Sarge, so it’s bound to be insane, but will somehow work out. So, I’m not going to question it.”

Mercedes smile became even wider. “That’s good! You’re learning!” She paused a moment for emphasis, standing up and brushing off her hands. “We’re going out after them.”

Santana nodded. “And the DEWS?”

“That’s what the grenades are for. Come on!” She dashed from out of the trench, straight towards the two figures that were getting closer and closer. Santana had no choice but to follow after.

\

Kurt liked the hum of the engines in a well working ship. He knew them like his own heartbeat he listened to them so much. Ever since he had joined Mercedes as a part of her crew, he’d gotten to spend every moment in the care of the Songbird, and he knew her as well as any mechanic could know his ship. 

Which was pretty well. 

But ever since that new pilot had come around, the Songbird had been complaining at every turn. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Brittany, he did, but sometimes she was so tough on his pride and joy that he couldn’t help feeling a little insulted. On the up side, she did seem to really care about everyone, and wasn’t too bad at getting them out of sticky situations. However, one of her more annoying habits was coming down into the engine room and causing trouble. Not big troubles, mind you, but smaller things that would make repairs that much more confusing later on. Kurt had caught her in the act a few times, but more often than not she’d wait until she knew he was otherwise indisposed to start monkey about. To put a stop to her endeavors, he’d set up a trap of sorts. Not really a trap, but more like an alarm system. It was a stockpile of old broken pots and pans, bells, and even a bit of old netting that Kurt had saved from the trash bin on a fishing planet they’d had a job in. He’d spent hours setting it up. It had to be stealthy enough that she wouldn’t see it, strong enough that it would do the job, and versatile enough that Kurt could move it out of the way if he had to. Finally, when it was done, he’d sat back with a sigh of relief. Ready to teach that pilot a lesson once and for all. Of course, someone (probably Santana) had tipped Brittany off about the device, and he hadn’t had a bite in weeks. 

Now, Kurt walked back to the engine room with a spring in his step. He’d lucked out finding the boarder for the Captain, and even though the ship was missing some (vital) parts, they’d be able to hobble along with what they had. He’d even found a replacement cooling fan for the aft alternators that would save them on fuel. He turned the part over in his hand, looking at it carefully. It would need a little work before it would be ready to install, but he could have it done in no time. 

Suddenly clattering and cursing caught his attention. He raced towards the engine room, hoping to catch the blonde pilot in the act.

“I’ve got you, Britt. I told you about sneaking around-”

Kurt paused. It certainly wasn’t the tall but petite blonde pilot caught in the pieces of netting that he’d so delicately fastened to the ceiling. This person was bigger, heftier, and definitely more masculine. 

“Finn? What are you doing in here?”

“Gorramit! I got turned around, and then I got over here, and- 屁事 Kurt, can you help me get out of this thing?”

Kurt faltered for a moment, and carefully setting down his cooling fan, he helped untangled Finn. 

Finn stood up to his full height and shook himself. “Thanks! What was all that?”

“Oh that.” Kurt turned red, and grimaced. “I was just… Um, we’ll.. I’ve had problems-”

“Is that a Gurstler engine?” Finn interrupted, pushing past Kurt, and approaching the engines. “I haven’t seen one of those in forever. 我的天啊! What a beaut! And you’ve got her purring like a kitten.”

Kurt’s blush deepened, and he giggled “Well, I do my best. It was Mercedes uncle’s ship, but I’ve fixed her up.”

“Holy cow.” Finn ducked under the engine, emerging from the other side with a grin. “She looks great, just great. What, did you rebuild her from scratch?” 

“Pretty much! I took apart an Aeronica 420 that we got out of a scrap heap, and managed to get a lot of fuel efficiency out of it.”

“Wow, just wow. How long you been working on her?” Finn asked, giving the engine an appreciative pat. 

“Oh, since the beginning. See, to start it was just Mercedes, Santana and me. Eventually everyone else started coming around. Puck was actually sent to kill us when we met, but we offered him more money.”

“What about the rest of the crew? Brittany, Rachel, and that doctor friend of yours?”

“Oh, they came at different times. Mike and his sister are the newest. Between you and me, I don’t think they’re meant for living out here in the black. There’s too much Alliance about them. But  _ also _ between you and me, I hope he sticks it out. That man really knows how to wear a smock!”

“I would have thought he was a part of the crew for years, with the way he’s around you all.”

“Nope, it hasn’t been too long. Lemme think. Maybe a few weeks? It was around the turn of the year-”

‘Kurt. What was all that ruckus?” 

Kurt turned abruptly and came almost face to face (well, face to shoulder) with Shepherd Beiste. He smiled. “Oh nothing, Shepherd, just this trap I had set up to catch Brittany, only it caught Finn instead.”

“And what exactly are you doing in here, Mr. Hudson?”

Finn gave a bright smile, and ducked back under the engine, coming to stand near to entrance into the engine room. “I got turned around is all. This dang ship is like a maze. Anyway, I’m going to get back to my bunk. Have a good night, Shepherd, Kurt.”

He gave them a nod, and was out the door like a flash. 

Shannon watched his retreat with some interest. “Strange boy.”

“You’re a pretty intimidating woman, Shepherd.” Kurt said with a smile. “He’s got to get to know the real you. Figure out you’re a big ‘ol softie. He’d want to spend more time with you then.”

Shannon returned his smile, putting a large arm around his shoulder. “Well, not everyone can know me like you do, Kurt.”

Kurt giggled as Shannon lead them out of the engine room. 

\

Santana’s brow was furrowed in concentration, as she chewed thoughtfully on her lip. She narrowed her eyes as she tried to focus on Brittany’s face. 

“Ummm…” She mumbled. 

Brittany sat cross legged in her pilot’s chair, only a few inches away from where Santana was perched on a console, and returned the focused look. She placed her hands gently on Santana’s thighs, and smiled inwardly when Santana didn’t shrink away from the contact, like she might have a few months ago. 

“Focus, Lopez. You’ve got to pick up the psychic vibes that I’m putting down. It requires all of you spirit consolidated into a point of contact.”

Santana frowned a bit, and sat back. “B, I don’t-”

Brittany reached higher, and pulled Santana forward, until their noses were nearly touching, and she watched the skepticism be immediately replaced by something a bit more animal. 

“You can do it.” Brittany purred, watching Santana closely as she gently moved her hands up and down Santana’s arms. 

Brittany could feel the heat rising in her own face as she leaned forward slightly. To be honest, she’d like Santana from the moment they’d first seen each other. Mercedes had heard her boasting that she’d once done a Crazy Ivan upside down on a dare. It was one of her favorite stories, and one that happened to be absolutely true. Mercedes had offered her a job on the spot because she ‘liked the look of her’, and because Brittany had liked her too, she took it. To be completely honest, she hadn’t expected it to be a long term job. She needed a way to get off that backwoods planet she’d been hanging out on, and a paying job seemed like the best bet. But, as soon as she’d stepped into that cargo hold, and laid eyes on Mercedes’ first mate, she’d had no intention of going anywhere. 

Santana had hated her at first, of course. It seemed that whatever Brittany did was exactly the wrong thing. But there was a quiet vulnerability about Santana that made her want to get to know her a lot more. So, Brittany started teasing her. It was little things at first, like asking her to explain something a few times while she pretended to not get it. That worked for a while, but once Santana caught on, she moved on to making sure she sat next to her at every opportunity. Every meal, every meeting with Mercedes. Anytime she just wanted to flop down on a sofa, she was in flopping distance to Santana. Of course, it was slow going, but Brittany was sure there was something in Santana that was responding, and before too long Brittany would be enjoying a nice bowl of protein, and Santana would sit down right beside her. It didn’t matter if the mess hall was full to bursting, or Brittany was the only one. Santana would sidle up and without a word, sit down right beside her. Even the rest of the crew knew that one side of her had to be free. 

So, what was their relationship now? Brittany wasn’t sure. She teased Santana from time to time because she thought she was cute when she’d smile and the corners of her eyes would crinkle. But Brittany didn’t want to dictate their relationship anymore. She’d been pushing Santana, and now the most important thing was that Santana was comfortable. And that meant letting her take the reigns for a while. Little did Brittany know that Santana was the slowest pilot in the whole two suns. Still, there was something endearing about it, and Brittany couldn’t help but feel her tender feelings towards Santana grow even more. 

That’s why she enjoyed moments like this. When nightmares would jolt her awake in a cold sweat, she would leave her bunk and sit in the cockpit. She would keep an eye on the ship’s systems but more often than not she would concoct elaborate stories for her dinosaurs. It was never boring but sometimes a little lonely.  But over the past few weeks, Santana had sauntered in and would keep her company. Neither asked why the other was awake at such an ungodly hour, but they had a commiseration of two people who had seen things that they'd rather forget but that still popped up in their dreams. In those moments, Brittany rarely teased. She opened herself up with a vulnerability that she rarely did. She let herself be serious and gentle and broken in a way that she couldn't be in her daylight hours and was rewarded when Santana was the same. 

Tonight, the theme was “Unlocking your psychic potential”. Brittany had secured playing cards to their foreheads (hiding a kiss in her application of Santana’s) and they had to guess the card. Brittany had been successful in her attempt and now it was Santana’s turn. 

Brittany could feel Santana’s breath on her face, and could feel the heat rising there, but she tried her best to stay cool. 

“So, um, yeah, just focus.” Brittany continued moving her hands up and down Santana’s arms. She could feel her leaning in ever so slightly. She could feel that Santana wanted something from her, if only she could figure out exactly what it was. 

They leaned further in, slowly, slowly until Brittany was sure their lips would meet, when suddenly Santana retreated quickly, rolling off the console, and ripping the card off of her forehead. 

“This is impossible, B! I mean, I have no idea. There’s nothing in my head even suggesting at the right answer.” 

She paced around the room, tossing the card at Brittany, who caught it, and laughed gently. 

“Santana…” She said, standing up, and coming to a stop right beside her. 

Santana huffed, crossing her arms, and pouted. “What?”

Brittany laughed again, putting her arms around Santana and giving her a tight hug. “You’re just so cute when you do that. I can’t stand it. 怎么可爱!”

This brought a smile to Santana’s face, and she ducked her head a bit, careful not to move too much, lest she move to far away from Brittany. They were standing close now, their fronts completely flush against one another in the remains of the hug, Brittany standing a few inches taller than Santana, so (had she wanted), she could have buried her lips into Brittany’s neck. 

“Do you want to know the secret? How I guessed yours?” This came out barely above a whisper, as Brittany nudged her nose against Santana’s. 

Santana gulped loudly, and nodded. 

“Well…” Brittany began, putting a gentle kiss on Santana’s cheek. 

“All you have to do…” She placed another one on Santana’s other cheek. 

“Is look deep into the other person’s eyes…” She placed a kiss on Santana’s chin. 

“And…” She put one last kiss on Santana’s forehead, and licked her own lips. Brittany’s eyes drifted towards Santana’s lips, and she leaned down ever so slightly. Brittany closed her eyes in anticipation, but suddenly, Santana took a step back. 

“What-?”

“You saw the reflection!” Santana pointed a finger at Brittany accusingly, while simultaneously trying to hide her smile. “You looked in my eyes, and saw the card reflected cause I was looking at it!”

Brittany slapped both hands over her heart. “Busted.”

“I’m going to kill you, Pierce! You had me thinking you were an honest to god psychic, you rat!”

Santana reached for Brittany, but she moved gracefully out of reach, but Santana didn’t stop. She bounded over the chair and caught Brittany in the corner, but her momentum was too much and it ended up tumbling the both of them, ass over tea kettle to the floor. They were both giggling so hard that it took Santana a moment to realize that she'd ended up straddling Brittany who'd fallen on her back. 

She held her sides and took in a few deep breaths. “I'm sorry, Britt! 很抱歉! Are you okay?” 

Brittany caught her breath as well. “I'm fine, fine. I used to dance and I'm used to falling. I know how to do it with style.” 

Santana leaned forward menacingly, covering Brittany’s wrists with her hands. 

“Well, if you're so good, then how'd I end up on top?” She growled. 

Brittany smiled and with a flick of her hips she’d popped Santana up in the air, shimmied out from the bottom and was now straddling Santana. She pressed her hips down a bit for good measure and could see the result from the look in Santana’s eyes. 

“You'll only end up on top if I let you.” She breathed, nipping on Santana’s earlobe. 

Brittany pulled back, desperately searching Santana’s face. She knew Santana found her attractive, knew that she liked her as more than just a friend, but she wanted her to say it. She wanted her enthusiastic participation, otherwise, she didn’t want it. Brittany had played this game before with guys and girls, but she’d never felt as desperate as she did with Santana. She’d never felt this feeling as raw and as pounding. But she wanted Santana to say it. She wanted to hear it in her own words. That she wanted Brittany as much as Brittany wanted her. That she cared about her as much as Brittany cared about her. She wanted the words because without the words, she wasn’t sure that this was exactly what Santana wanted. 

All the signs were there, of course. She could feel Santana’s pulse quicken, she could feel the heat where she sat from between Santana’s legs, she could hear Santana panting, not from exertion, but from desire, but the words… Those gorram words still eluded her. 

“Britt…” Santana breathed. 

And Brittany saw it. She wasn’t ready. She was close (very very close), but she wasn’t ready. There was a hesitation in her voice, a hiccup that gave everything away, and as much as Brittany wanted whatever was happening to actually happen, Santana wasn’t ready. So she would wait. It was the least she could do. 

So, slowly, so, so slowly, Brittany moved off of Santana. She rolled over, sitting beside her, running her fingers through her hair a few times in order to catch her breath. Neither of them spoke for a few moments, desperate to compose themselves.  

“Santana-” Brittany began, but a beep from the console cut her off. 

She was on her feet in an instant, pressing buttons as quickly as she could. “哎呀坏了.”

Santana was on her feet too, standing by. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve gotta problem.” She turned, pressing a button on the console, and speaking into the microphone there. “Mercedes, you might wanna get up here…” 


	3. Do the Job...

Mercedes pounded a few steps ahead of Santana, and then slowed a bit to let her Corporal catch up. She was sure that at any moment The Siblings McCarthy and their unknown guest would come barreling into view, full of vim and vigor, and all they’d have to do was turn around and keep running. As the minutes stretched out in front of her, she wasn’t so sure. She counted the seconds in her head as she ran, hoping to keep track of the distance that they’d need to cover as they made their way back to the bunker where her troops were hunkered down. Suddenly, the dust seemed to clear, and the night took on a brighter shade, and the terrain in front of them began to have a clearer form.Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she could see an unknown Browncoat hobbling quickly towards them. She threw a cursory glance up to the sky, and could see the flashes of lightning that illuminated the clouds. 

Maybe lightning. Maybe explosions.

She tried not to linger on that depressing thought, and picked up the pace, listening to Santana fall in step behind her. She stopped a few feet from the bruised and bloody soldier who had stopped to catch her breath, and Mercedes scanned the area without looking at her. 

“There and there. Set up the charges.” She pointed to a few outcroppings of rock that hadn’t been completely disintegrated by the shelling. “Underneath. We’re going to make our own cloud cover.”

Mercedes tossed a couple grenades Santana’s way and the Corporal ran off without another word, sprinting towards the rocks, and diving to a crouch right in front of the first one. Mercedes finally turned towards the private and sized her up, noting the bloody gouge in her leg, and the tattered Company C patch that hung off of her sleeve. She gave a long look to the name tape affixed to her chest and smiled wryly. 

“Private Wilde?”

The other woman didn’t react at first. She stood hunched over, slightly favoring her uninjured leg. There was a fogginess in her eyes that Mercedes figured had a bit to do with the wound, and a bit to do with any medicine that Private First Class McCarthy had given her. 

Mercedes had seen that look before. This wasn’t her first casualty on the battlefield. There were plenty of times when she’d had to look her soldier in the eye and tell them that they’d never use their leg again, or they had better learn to shoot with their left hand. This kind of responsibility came with the territory. But the look on this soldier’s face gave her pause. More than likely it had something to do with the fact that she had learned only a few hours before that Company C had been completely wiped off the map. They were newer recruits, shoved onto the flank to provide support. But those purple belly scum had attacked there first. They had leveled the troops lingering towards the back of the formation before the Browncoats could get any guns in the air. And by the time they did… it was too late. The damage was done. 

Mercedes took another step forward, and gently touched Wilde’s arm. “Private?”

“Private Kitty Wilde, ma’am! Begging your pardon, ma’am!” Kitty snapped to attention, slamming her hand into her forehead in a salute that was more muscle memory than anything else. 

“Now, that’s good. That’s good, Private. I’m glad you could join us in the land of the living.”

Kitty’s voice got shaky as her salute faltered. “Ma’am?”

Mercedes ignored her, and looked to where Santana was racing to another rock, carefully placing a grenade. She then shifted her eyes behind Kitty where Mason was finally reaching them from wherever he had been dawdling, Corporal McCarthy was not far behind. 

“What in the name of the seven hells is she doing out here by herself, Corporal?” Mercedes yelled out, noting that Santana was placing the last of the grenades. 

Madison came close to her and saluted, still out of breath. “I’m so-sorry, ma’am….. She-she…… she got away from us…. in all the….. in all the commotion….”

Mercedes didn’t ask for clarification, but pulled out a few of the grenades, handing one to Madison, and one to Mason. “On second thought, I don’t give a 狗屁 how it happened. We’re your rescue party.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” Madison yelled, saluting again. She smiled sheepishly and lowered her hand. “Um, thank you, ma’am.”

She returned the smile grimly to Madison. She’d always like the junior officer. When they’d first met not too long before, she’d had high hopes for how far she’d rise in the ranks, doing her family name proud. Of course, now that seemed like a distant memory, but she knew that Madison was someone who did her job and did it well. Her brother on the other hand… Honestly, she liked the boy, and he would always have a place in her squad. He was training to be a medic, and he seemed to really enjoy the work, but he wasn’t half the soldier his sister was. Quite the shame, that.

Mason finally got around to saluting and Mercedes just waved him off, placing a hand on his shoulder. “How is she, Private McCarthy? Is she gonna make it back?”

“Grenades planted, sir.” Santana interrupted, jogging up beside them. 

Mercedes gave a sharp nod, and addressed Madison and Mason in turn. “We’ve got about three hundred feet to that bunker, and we’ve got to get all five of us back. I’ve got a diversion cooking, but we’ve gotta go for broke. You’re gonna take your grenades, you’re gonna throw them off our path as we go on the Corporal’s mark. And you’re gonna run like hell.” 

Mercedes nodded towards Kitty. “Can she make it?”

The twins looked between each other for a moment, speaking that language that no one but the two of them could understand, and without a word, Mason reached into his pack, grabbed a hypo and plunged it into Kitty’s arm. 

He pulled out the hypo, and dropped it back into his bag. “She will now.”

“Well…” Mercedes said, finally looking up fully to the sky. 

The air around them grew oppressive, and the buzzing started again. Mercedes felt vaguely peaceful about the whole thing. She’d made up her mind that she wasn’t going to lose anymore soldiers to those bastards. Not as long as she had breath left in her body.

She clapped her hand on Kitty’s shoulder and looked into her eyes, noting the pupils that were getting larger by the second. Mercedes leaned in close and nearly shouted next to her ear, as the buzzing got louder and louder. 

“They killed your company, Private. Down to a person, they massacred every single soldier in your unit. Except for you.”

She let her words sink in, and pulled two grenades out of her pocket, keeping one for herself, and shoving the other one into Kitty’s trembling hands. 

“They tried to end you once, and they’re about to try again, and we’re not gonna to let ‘em. We’re going to show them how you survived. We’re going to show them how we’re gonna win.”

Mercedes nodded to Santana who gestured to the others and covered her ears. “Frag out!”

She pressed a button on the receiver attached to her uniform and right as the buzzing became nearly unbearable, explosions sounded all around them. 

The plan that Mercedes had come up with, and that Santana had inferred, was a simple one. The DEWS relied on a lot of targeting that happened high above the ground. They were powerful, but relatively inaccurate once they’d been launched. The buzzing that they had been suffering through was the vibration of the microwaves that predicated a launch of a batch of DEWS. She’d figured that if they set the explosions to go off at the exact moment, hopefully right as they were being launched, the grenade detonations that were surrounding them would knock the targeting out of whack, providing them not only with debris cover, but also with an avenue of escape. That was the plan, at least. She knew that if her timing was off even a little bit that things could go very wrong, very quickly. 

She held a hand against Santana’s arm, and squeezed as the dust clouds hit their zeniths, pointing off their paths. “Now!”

They broke off into a run back towards the bunker, Santana leading them and Mercedes bringing up the rear. She pounded the radio on her chest and opened up a channel, yelling out against the chaotic buzzing and the sounds of falling debris. 

“Cohen-Chang, get ready for the bang.”

The radio crackled to life. “Yes, ma’am.”

The smoke was so thick Mercedes could barely breathe, but she put one foot in front of the other, She shouted out and Santana took a hard right immediately, not slowing a hair as she sprinted across the exploding earth. The rest of the group hesitated for a moment as the rocks exploded in front of them, but she pushed them forward, following Santana as she caught up to their backs. Mercedes counted out in her head; another thirty seconds at this pace would put them out of the radius for most of the DEWS and then they’d let loose with the grenades they had in their hands, and make a break for the bunker. She prayed that Tina wouldn’t have to launch their own rockets, but it was not  completely outside of the realm of possibility. She’d rather her company not be under direct attack, but they could stand several hours of DEWS, and wait for backup to arrive. On the other hand, if the five of them were caught out in the open with a successful attack, they wouldn’t last seconds, let alone minutes. Mercedes noted a cluster of tall rocks to her left, and pulled ahead to match pace with Santana. She saved her breath and pointed towards the rocks. The count down in her head reached 30 and she took off towards the rock, pulling a grenade out of her vest, and priming it for fire. 

“Grenades free!” She shouted, in the direction they’d just come. “Frag out!”

The cry was echoed several times, and several more thunks followed as the grenades hit their targets away from where they were now headed. Mercedes careened around the rock, and sank down on her heels, covering her helmet with her hands. Everyone followed suit, and as the explosions sounded on the other side, Mercedes could feel the oppressive atmosphere fading. They were targeting somewhere else now. Those Alliance 猪狗 had guessed where the group was headed, and they’d guessed wrong. This was just the opportunity that she needed. It wouldn’t be exact, but she may have thrown the Alliance off the scent just enough to give them an escape route. She slapped Santana on the back, and took off running in a beeline for the bunker. She took one look over her shoulder, and seeing all of her band directly behind her gave her that last burst of adrenaline that she needed to pump her legs even faster.

The faint edges of her vision that had become hazy as she’d laser focused on one problem or another became clearer as she got closer to the trench where safety lay, and even as the buzzing started again, and she knew that their enemies were prepping another shot (probably very near to where they’d be), she could feel the relief that comes in knowing your goal was just around the corner. 

Mercedes turned again, and skidded to a halt. She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach with a decisive thud. Santana stopped as well, but Kitty blasted by, showing no signs of slowing down. 

“Sir?” Santana asked, turning around for the first time. “Sir, what-”

Mercedes couldn’t even manage a quip about the unfairness of the universe as Santana followed her line of sight, and the words were caught in her throat. 

Private First Class Mason McCarthy was on the ground, tugging on his leg that seemed to be trapped in a shallow crater. Madison was close by, doing her best not to look panicked, and tugging on his leg as well. The buzzing grew louder in her ears, and Mercedes closed her eyes for a split second before snapping them back open. 

She grabbed Santana’s arms and forced her to focus. “Corporal! Corporal Lopez!” Mercedes gave another shake. “Santana.” 

Her second in command finally caught her eye, and Mercedes spoke as quickly as she was able. 

“You’re going to take Madison, and you’re going to run, and you’re not going to stop and that is a direct order.”

Mercedes tried to calm the panic in her voice. Santana Lopez had never once disobeyed an order from her. Not once. She never hesitated. She never faltered. That's why she was Mercedes’ right hand. That's how they always trusted each other. But Mercedes had no confusion about what she was asking Santana to do. She might have been asking Santana to leave her to die. And that might make anyone pause. But Santana nodded curtly and didn't hesitate, only giving her a small squeeze on the arm, and Mercedes turned back, running towards the twins. 

She skidded to a stop beside Mason, and hazarded a look skyward. The was a faint greenish haze that covered the horizon, and though Mercedes knew it was from the exhaust fumes of the DEWS coming out of atmo, she couldn’t help but consider the beauty of the moment. It also told her that they maybe had thirty or forty five seconds before the world went to hell in a handbasket. 

She yanked Madison to her feet first. Noting the tears running down her face, but quickly disregarded them. 

“Corporal, you’re going to join Corporal Lopez, and you are not going to stop running until you are inside. Do you hear me?”

“But, Sarge-”

She put both hands on either side of Madison’s face and held tight. “I will not let anything happen to him. I will not. I promise you. Go. Now.”

She released Madison’s face, and gave her a small push. This was all Madison needed before giving one look back to her brother, who nodded slightly, and turning away, Madison ran to catch up with Santana. 

Now, Mercedes kneeled down and looked to where Mason’s leg was buried up to the calf in the dirt. She felt around the hole, trying for a desperate moment to dig away the dirt surrounding it.

“Well, Sarge, whaddya think?” Mason managed nonchalantly. 

Mercedes wiped her brow with the back of her hand, trying her best to ignore the buzzing that was getting louder by the second. 

“I think, Private…” She let her voice trail off. “I think, Private McCarthy, that somehow you’d screw up a trip to the latrine.”

 Mason laughed grimly and shook his head. “Sergeant, you should go, there's not really enough time-” 

“Can it, Private.” Mercedes interrupted, standing up, planting her feet and taking a strong grip on Mason’s leg. “You think I'm going to sit in a bunker for the rest of this war with your sister and I left you out here? I'd never hear the end of it and I'm not interested.” 

Mason nodded gratefully and looked up at Mercedes. “What now?”

Mercedes strengthened her grip and took a deep breath. “You're gonna yank your leg outta there, and then we’re gonna run.” 

Mason gulped. 

“This is gonna hurt, Private McCarthy, I don't got to tell you how much. But you will need to push through the pain. That's how we’re gonna make it.”

Mason scrambled to stand up, so he could offer leverage as well. He clenched his teeth and nodded. 

“1, 2, 3!” Mercedes counted off and leaned back, straining her leg and back muscles as she did so. 

She remembers a lot of these desperate seconds later and it's not with the panic or despair that some might feel at a moment like this. She was worried, yes, but more worried about Mason and his leg. She'd always had a supernatural luck. It'd gotten her this far, even though it didn't always touch everyone who stood with her, it seemed to protect her and as she was with Mason at that particular moment, she figured it'd work out for him, too. Of course what she couldn't have counted on was the gunner fire. 

The first thuds of machine gun fire hit the ground a few feet in front of them, but Mercedes thought it was the pressure cloud disrupting the ground below. But as the shots got closer she felt that panic that had been noticeably absent curl up and take hold of her heart. One of the fears that she'd considered is that the Alliance forces would notice all the movement and put troops on the ground, hoping to smoke them out. She hadn't expected it nearly so quickly, but the knowledge that they were currently under fire panicked her more than she thought it would. 

Mercedes pushed all the air out of her lungs and with all the power she had left, she pulled back as hard as she could. With an anguished scream from Mason, his leg slid free and they both fell backwards. Mercedes only had to take a quick look at his leg to notice it's awkward angle and the way he favored the other. She didn’t look again. The bullets became louder, and they were buzzing past her head with only a few feet to spare. 

She dragged Mason behind her, nearly lifting him off the ground and carrying him on her back, but she didn’t stop running. She didn’t even bother running evasively. She wasn’t sure that Mason could take it, and she couldn’t waste the time. She could actually see the doorway, they were so close, she only had to reach out… 

Then, suddenly everything went white. 

\

Mercedes hadn’t been sleeping when Brittany asked her to the bridge, but even if she had, the tone in her pilot’s voice would have gotten her out of bed immediately. She was out of her bunk like a flash, and up the ladder to the bridge. It was still early, yet, but there were some signs of life on the ship. She could already hear Rachel practicing her scales, which meant the rest of the crew would be up before too long. 

When she got to the cockpit, her worry went up a hundredfold. Santana stood beside Brittany at the console, her arms crossed, and her face folded into a worried grimace, as she looked down at Brittany. They spoke in hushed tones, and Mercedes was sure she’d never seen her pilot more serious. 

“What've you got?” Mercedes said, breaking in. 

They both looked up, exchanged a glance, and Brittany gestured to the console. 

“Somebody sent out a wave headed to the nearest Alliance cruiser.”

“Did you scramble it?” 

“To hell, Cap’n, but I'm not sure how much got through. They had to have caught some of it.” 

Santana took a step forward. “It came from Songbird, sir. One of us sent it.” 

“肏你妈!” Mercedes cursed, slamming her hand into the back of the pilot’s chair. 

There was a moment of silence as Brittany and Santana let Mercedes think, but after a bit, Brittany cleared her throat. 

“Any ideas?” 

Mercedes sighed. “Yeah, a few, but nothing for sure quite yet. I want everybody in mess. Now. Make the call, Pierce. Afterwards, you stay here and watch the comm. Make sure we know what's happening before they do. I reckon I can count on the mole being neither of y'all, since you were together when the wave went out.” 

Brittany was about to respond, but was surprised when Santana cut her off. 

“Yes sir, it was the two of us since about four AM.” 

“Good. Santana, you're with me. Britt, start ringing that bell.” 

With that she rushed towards the ladder and was down it in a flash, with Santana right on her heels. 

“What are you thinking, sir?” 

“I'm thinking dollars to donuts I know who it is and what they want.” 

Santana was about to ask a follow up when Brittany’s voice screeched to life on the comm. 

“Wake-y wake-y, boys and girls. Cap wants you in the dining room, as soon as possible. Drop your duties, this is mandatory and urgent. Get down there now.” 

Mercedes could hear the folks jostling about in their bunks, but missed the mess hall entirely and took another turn. 

“Captain-” Santana started. 

In front of the two of them, Quinn emerged from her bunk and Mercedes was on her in a second, pointing a finger into her chest hard and pushing her brusquely against the wall. 

“What did you do?!” She shouted. 

“What are you talking about?” Quinn’s voice was calm, as calm as it ever was, which was more than a little disconcerting, given the circumstances. 

“I think it’s high time that you tell me what brought you and your brother on my boat. I’m not interested in anymore of your misdirections, no more of your lies. I wanna know, and I wanna know now.”

Behind them, Kurt approached and reached for Mercedes. Santana stepped in front of her, blocking his path.

“Not now, Kurt.”

Kurt blinked a few times. “She isn’t gonna kill her, is she, Santana? That might fly in the Unification Wars, but these are civilized folk!”

“Captain, what’s going on?” Mike spoke up behind them, fast approaching. 

Mercedes spared a glance back towards Mike. “Let me find out that you two have something to do with this and-”

Santana blocked his way as well, but met with a bit more resistance. 

“You will unhand my sister this instant!”

“Or what, Chang? Maybe, I’ll get a straight answer out of you. What are you doing on my boat?”

Mercedes turned towards Mike now, but Santana was slow to move out of the way. 

“Maybe if the Captain will do kindly to explain what’s going on-”

“I don’t have to explain anything, Chang. This is  **my ship.** Anyone that comes on it or off it has to answer to me. That’s how it works. The two of you have been having secret meetings all over this place, and don’t think it hasn’t been brought to my attention-”

“Captain, I think that’s enough.” Shannon’s deep, commanding voice cut through the chaos, but no one paid her much mind. 

“Not now, Shepherd, this ain’t got nothing to do with you.”

“Oh, but I think it does, Captain.”

Shannon’s tone sent everyone looking in their direction, and they noticed she wasn’t alone. Finn Hudson stood behind her, a pistol pointed to her back. 

“Damn it, what now?” Mercedes seemed more exasperated than afraid, but the air of the room shifted violently. 

Finn shoved Shannon forward, and pointed his gun into the crowded hallway. “Anybody moves, dies.”

Mercedes put her hands up, but took a small step forward. “Ain’t no trouble here, Hudson.”

Finn fumbled with something on his chest, slinging a billfold over Shannon’s shoulder. “Don’t move,  _ Captain _ . I’m a federal agent, and I’m in charge now.” 

“Good, good, Hudson.” Mercedes lowered her hand a bit to gesture towards Quinn and Mike. “Look, I don’t know what these two did in Alliance space, but I don’t want them on my ship anymore than you do. You want these two lowlifes, I don’t care, get ‘em off my ship and all the better, but you swinging that gun around don’t help matters one bit.”

“闭嘴! All of you right now! I don’t want to hear another word!” Finn waved the gun around dangerously.

“Come on, now, Hudson. We’ll lock him and his sister up in the hold and you won’t hear a word outta them until we catch landfall.” Mercedes took another step forward, sliding her hand into her coat pocket. 

“I said don’t move!” Finn shouted, zeroing in the gun on Mercedes. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Finn saw Santana take a step in Mercedes’ direction, he swung his gun around, and pointed it at her. “I’d say the cruiser I called is about ten minutes out. Once they get here, I reckon I’ll get a nice hefty payday waiting. Not to mention catching all you criminals.”

Shannon broke in, keeping her voice steady. “Nobody here is going anywhere, son. They’re all stuck on this boat, the same as you. And considering that you’re the one with the gun, no one is making a move without your say so.”

“I’m not your son! I’m a man of the law and-”

Mercedes took another step forward. “Hudson. Finn-”

“I said stop moving!” Finn screamed. He pointed the gun at Mercedes, but a voice behind him caused him to swing around. 

“What’s all the-”

The shot rang out before Rachel could even finish talking. The first hints of red started to bloom right in the center of her pretty, silken dress, spreading it’s scarlet veins out like a star reaching for the edges of the black. She barely had time to process to the blow before everything collapsed into anarchy.

Pushing back her coat, Mercedes pulled her gun from the holster, as Santana did the same. But before anyone could get another shot off, Shannon was on top of Finn, using her fists as a club that she brought down smack dab on the crown of his head. He folded like a house of cards, as his gun clattered across the hallway. Puck appeared behind Rachel, catching her, and lowering her gently to the ground. 

Santana was down beside Rachel next, cradling her head closely. “What’d you have to go and do that for, you idiot? Didn’t you know he had a gun?” Her voice was clear, but strained, she held onto Rachel gently. 

Seeing Finn incapacitated, Puck approached, pulling his gun free. Shannon stepped up to meet him. 

“You’re not killing this man, Puck.”

“Not at first, no.”

“Not at all.”

Puck lifted his gun to his forehead, not pointing it at Shannon directly, but making his point clear. “I ain’t afraid to kill a preacher.”

“No one is dying today.” Mercedes stepped forward, pointing her gun at Puck. “Tie him up, lock him up in the hold.”

Puck hesitated a second, and couldn’t seem to decide what he wanted to do. 

“Do it!” Mercedes bellowed, and he hopped to, securing his gun, and grabbing some duct tape off a nearby table. 

Mercedes walked over to where Rachel lay as Mike stood by doing his best to stop the bleeding. She crouched at Rachel’s feet, careful to give the doctor room to work, but let her know that she was there. 

“Well, that ain’t too bad. I’ve seen worse.” Mercedes said gently, smiling a smile that didn’t quite chase the worry from her eyes. 

“You hear that, Rachel? You’re gonna be alright.” Santana said, her voice no less strained, but no less steady. 

Mike turned to Mercedes, while trying to keep his hand over the wound. “We’ve gotta move her. Get her to the infirmary now. I have the tools there that-”

Suddenly Brittany’s voice was all around them. “Captain, if you’re done with the fireworks display down there, we’ve been hailed by an Alliance cruiser. They want us to prepare for docking and transfer.” 

The action stopped, and Mercedes and Mike shared a glance. He stood up. 

“Change course, run.”

“The hell with that. You brought this down on our heads, I’m leaving you with the law.”

“You do that, and I’ll let her bleed out.”

“You ain’t got it in you, Chang.”

“Try me, Captain.”

Mercedes was on her feet in an instant, her gun pointed directly at Mike. Her hand was steady, and there was no one there who doubted she would incapacitate Mike if she felt the need. Mike had to have felt it most of all, yet, he didn’t move a muscle, save for the slight tightening of his jaw. 

The room held it’s breath, no one daring to move. They all looked back and forth between the Captain and Mike Chang. Both with their heads held high, neither willing to give out. It was common knowledge that Mercedes Jones didn’t back away from a challenge. Never had and never would. But Mike was an enigma. He was only known as the guy on the crew that was quick with a smile, friendly to everyone, and who was as kind as his sister was cold. He’d never so much as raised his voice. But now, to see him stand toe to toe with Mercedes was like witnessing some sort of revelation. The man had a backbone that many would admire. 

When it seemed that neither of them would give out, a small voice came from the floor. Everyone, besides Mike and Mercedes, turned to look at her, but  Santana kept her eyes on the ground.

“Please.” 

It was a small sound, barely more than a whisper, but it might as well have been a shout. Mercedes hesitated only a second before lowering her gun, moving towards the radio, and pressing it with a sharp jab. 

“Start evasion procedures. I’ll be up to the bridge in a moment.”

There was no response from Brittany, but they could all feel the ship start to move and everyone seemed to exhale at once, and began moving again. Puck tried slinging Finn over his shoulder, but after a few falters, was joined by Shannon. 

“I’ll give you a hand there, Mr. Puckerman. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to the boy as he’s getting downstairs.”

Puck only grunted, and grabbed Finn’s legs roughly, grunting again with the effort. 

As soon as the movement began, Mike started giving directions, angling people here and there to lift Rachel, and carry her to the infirmary. Santana and Mercedes were right by her side. During the Unification Wars, they both had their fair share of experience dressing wounds, and we as good field assistants as Mike could ask for. Neither had seen him work before, but even they could see he was skilled. He had a natural talent combined with a trained eye, and after hours of removal and reconstruction, he put the finishing touches on a neat stitch that closed the fresh, red wound in Rachel’s side. 

They all emerged from the infirmary tired and bloody, facing an anxious looking Kurt and Sugar. 

Mercedes beat them to the punch, waving off their questions and turning to the Doctor. “So, Chang… Is she going to make it?”

Mike rubbed his hands fretfully on his apron. “I don’t know. I did the best that I could, but it was a bad wound. We won’t know more until she stabilizes.”

“Mercedes, I just want to know what’s going on? Why did Finn shoot her? Why is he here at all?” Kurt asked. 

“Why don’t we go ask Ms. Chang, and see if she’ll be more obliging?” Mercedes said, throwing down the towel she’d been using to dry her hands and storming out. 

Santana followed without a word, and Mike struggled with his apron for a moment, but gave up and scrambled after. 

“What? No!”

Mercedes barreled through the hallways, arriving at the Chang’s bunk and walking through the door. Quinn sat on the bed playing her 琵琶. When Mercedes and Santana burst in, she didn’t say a word, but soundlessly put down her instrument. 

“I think it’s high time we had that conversation, Ms. Chang.” She gestured around the room. “You’re on my boat, Quinn. You know what that Fed is doing on board, you need to tell me. You need to tell me why you’re here. You need to tell me why Rachel is lying up on that operating table.”

At the mention of Rachel, Quinn looked away, guiltily. It was the first trace of emotion that she’d showed since they came in. 

Suddenly, Mike rushed in behind them, but Santana grabbed him by the shoulders before he could get too far into the room. He struggled against her grasp for a few moments, but stopped and pointed accusingly at the Captain. 

“Mercedes, you have no right-”

“Enough, Mike.”

They all looked to Quinn who stood up and straightened her clothes. 

“But, Quinn-”

“She’s right.” Quinn sighed. “She deserves to know the truth.”

Mercedes sent a wide eyed look Santana’s way and then looked back at Quinn. 

“Well, good.” She said, clearing her throat. “‘Bout time.” 

Santana finally let Mike into the room and he went to the bed, taking Quinn’s hand. 

“It all started on Boros.”

\

The group sat around the big kitchen table in the mess hall looking with rapt attention to Quinn who stood in front of everyone. She was gathering her thoughts to tell her story. 

Brittany walked in seriously, standing beside Santana, and glaring at Puck until he moved over. She sat down with a plop and made small purring sounds as Santana rubbed her back absentmindedly. 

“My mother is Emile Fabray.”

The room froze as everyone took an unsteady breath. 

It was definitely a name that everyone new. Fabray had a farther reach than Motta, along with the backing of the Alliance behind her. 

Puck scratched his brow a couple of times thoughtfully. “Well, who in the hell is that?”

Everyone rolled their eyes, and Santana reached around Brittany to deliver a smack to the back of Puck’s head. “Gorrammit, Puck, how do you not know the name Fabray? You’d have to be hiding under a rock for the last twenty years not to know it.”

“Well, I’m sure I don’t know. I’ve been too busy helping y’all out of jams to worry about famous names.” Puck said, insulted. 

“She’s only one of the top folks in the Alliance government. Well, she was. I imagine her  _ separation _ from the government is the reason Ms. Chang is here with us today.” Shepherd Beiste broke in. 

Kurt gave Shannon a sidelong look, noting the strange emphasis. “Separation?” 

“Yes, but I reckon that’s not my story to tell.” Shannon nodded to Quinn. 

Quinn cleared her throat fitfully. “Yes, well, the Shepherd is right. My mother was ousted from her position of power because of, well, mostly because of a disagreement. I don’t know all of the details. I was in boarding schools for most of my life. I barely saw my mother, or my family at all. I just know that one day Mike showed up at the university and said we had to go.”

“And who are you in all this, Mr. Chang? You really who you say you are? I happen to know for a fact that you’re a skilled surgeon. Are you two star crossed lovers that went on the lamb?” Mercedes asked, somewhat accusingly. 

Mike managed to find a smile and snickered a little. “Us? Me and Quinn? Lovers? Um, no. Quinn’s-”

He stopped himself when he met Quinn’s look which could only be described as frigid. 

“Anyway, no. We’ve known each other for a long time. Her family has long been a benefactor to mine. I got into the best medical school in the White Sun system, but I wouldn’t have been able to afford it if it hadn’t been for the Fabrays. You have them to thank for that bit of work I did on Rachel.”

“Mike, there’s no need to sell yourself short. You got into that school on your own, and your talent is your own.” Quinn said, firmly. 

“Be that as it may…” Mike continued, but pointed the rest of his comments towards his audience. “The Fabrays have been nothing but kind to me. Quinn is like my sister, we practically grew up together. When I got word that she was in danger, I went to find her and we left.”

“Danger?” Brittany asked. 

“Right. That’s where I was headed before I was interrupted by the Captain.” Quinn broke in, looking pointedly at Mercedes, who only shrugged in response. “Mike showed up at my school saying that we needed to leave right away. I didn’t, and still don’t, know all the details. But, I do know that my mother has spent a long time cultivating her position in the government. If she’s lost it, and is in danger, then that means that someone on the inside came after her. She only sent me a wave that said she couldn’t come to me because she feared for her life, and that I had a reason to as well. She told me that Mike would accompany me, and we were to get as far away from the core planets as possible until this all ‘blew over’. She didn’t say how long that would take, but she did make it clear that if I didn’t, well, things could go very wrong. Someone is coming after all of us, my parents and me. I don’t know what vendetta they have, but… Well, there it is.”

Brittany, who seemed like she was dozing off because of the impromptu back rub, sat up quickly. “But why avoid the Alliance? I’d be running towards the law if I thought I was the subject of an assassination attempt.” 

“Because of this.” Mercedes reached over and tapped a nearby display, bringing up a large picture of Quinn that was covered in the word “WANTED” in various sizes and languages. At the bottom it read, ‘Wanted, Quinn Fabray, Treason. $5000 credits for information leading to her arrest.’

Puck whistled. “Whew. Five thousand credits? I say we hand them over to the Fed right now. We could use the payday.” 

Mercedes gave him a look, and turned to Quinn. “I knew from the minute you came onboard, before you ask. I try not to go into any situation blind.”

“So, why’d you let us on? If you knew there’d be trouble.” Quinn countered. 

Mercedes shook her head. “第一, I always expect trouble, whether there are fugitives on board my boat or not. 第二, I don’t much care about your reasons for getting on so long as you can pay. We’re all running from something.”

“And what are you running from, Captain?” 

No one moved as Mercedes glared at Quinn for a moment. 

“Well!” Brittany said, standing up and stretching. “That’s quite a story!”

Her outburst broke the tension of the room, and everyone seemed to shake off the awkwardness. 

“Well, it’s all true.” Offered Mike. 

“Oh, don’t it tug at the heartstrings.” Mercedes quipped, without much sympathy. “But in the meantime, you’ve brought down a whole heap of trouble onto me and mine.”

“Well, I’m sorry about Rachel, Captain, but I never thought-”

“That’s right, Mr. Chang, you didn’t think. And now I’ve got an Alliance lawman in my hold, and the only respectable one among us is laid up with a gutshot.”

Mercedes didn’t continue, but everyone avoided her gaze. They knew how dire the situation was. No one had to tell them, but at the moment their options were limited. 

“So, how are we gonna find our way outta this one, Cap’n?” Puck asked. 

Mercedes set her mouth in a grim line. “I got one rule out here, you know that. We’re finishing the job.”

“And us, Captain?” Quinn stepped forward and stuck her chin out defiantly.

“We’re dropping you all off when we get to Greenleaf. You can make your way from there.”

The room erupted at this suggestion, and everyone started speaking at once.

“Mercedes, they’ll never make it out on Greenleaf with the Alliance on their tail, the best thing is to keep moving.” Kurt started.

Puck scratched at his beard thoughtfully. “Does that mean I can get a bigger share?”

Shepherd Beiste leaned forward earnestly. “Captain, that’s insane. We can’t just drop them off, whatever happens to them will be on our heads.”

“And the lawman?” Mike asked.

“We can’t let him go, he’s seen all of us. Lucky for us, he’s got plenty of space between here and Greenleaf to go missing in.” Puck said. 

“Now, wait just a second, we can’t just kill him.” Brittany said, firmly. 

“Like hell we can’t. Man comes on our ship, shoots our Companion-”

“Puck, you can’t just kill everyone you disagree with. Captain, tell him he can’t just kill everyone he disagrees with.”

“I won’t stand by while there’s killing aboard this ship.” Shannon said, gruffly. 

Puck scoffed. “Well, looky there. Shepherd won’t stand by for killing. We all better walk soft.”

“And Rachel?” Kurt broke in. “Captain, what if we drop them off in Greenleaf, and Rachel takes a turn for the worse? We need a doctor on board, Mercedes.”

“She makes it out okay, they make it to Greenleaf. She doesn’t… Well, the esteemed doctor and his ‘sister’ might be getting off a bit earlier than expected. 

Brittany turned to Santana. “This is insane. We’re not just going to shove them out of an airlock.”

Santana didn’t answer, but didn’t meet Brittany’s eye, either. 

“Santana. Santana, please-”

“That’s enough!” 

Mercedes voice cut through the commotion and everyone fell silent. “This isn’t a gorram town hall meeting. We go on to Greenleaf, end of discussion.”

“And the lawman?” Shannon asked. 

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.”

“I believe it's cross that bridge, Captain.” 

“That too.” Mercedes said, pushing herself away from the counter she'd been leaning on. 

Brittany was up before she could leave, shaking off the hand Santana had rested on her shoulder and kicking her chair back with a crash. 

Mercedes raised an eyebrow. “And where are you off to?”

“Somebody’s supposed to be flying this thing. If that's okay, Captain.”

There was something to her tone that Mercedes didn't like, but she let it slide, nodding before Brittany stormed away. 

Mercedes put a heavy hand on Santana’s shoulder, just as the other woman moved to follow. “Give her some time. She’ll be okay in a little while.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Anyway, the rest of you get outta here. There's plenty to be done once we land on Greenleaf. Kurt, go prime the engines.”

Everyone seemed to take that as their cue, and for the most part shuffled off. Sugar stayed behind, and gave Mercedes an uncertain look. 

“Um, Mercedes? Captain. Can I talk to you for a second?” 

Mercedes tried to hold off the groan that threatened to bubble up but instead turned and gave Sugar a thin smile. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think I might know what that Fed wants with us.”

Mercedes scrunched her brow. “Well, I reckon it's pretty obvious. Whoever is after Quinn’s mother has a long reach and apparently it can even get to us out here in the black.”

“That's one theory, I guess, but what I think is…” 

The comm on the wall crackled to life and Brittany’s voice sounded through the speakers. 

“Captain, if you could make your way to the bridge, that would be greatly appreciated.” 

Mercedes pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “神人和她所有的笨蛋姐妹. What now?” She hit the button to reply.  “I'm on my way.” 

\

Santana sat close beside Rachel as the beeps from a machine sounded in the corner. She didn’t have any tears to cry for her. Not anymore anyway, but she also couldn’t think of a better place to be. At least Rachel was quiet for a while. Santana laughed to herself. 

“Finally letting me get the last word, huh, Berry? Don’t think I’m going to let you get away with anything just because you’re not here to talk back. I’m sure you’re talking a mile a minute in there. Once you wake up, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Santana smiled softly and traced a finger down the back of Rachel’s hand. 

“Brittany’s probably not talking to me. On one hand, I don’t blame her, but what can I do? She knows what I’ve been through with Mercedes. She knows what she’s done for me. How much I owe her. And anyway, it’s not like Brittany has an special monopoly on my attention. It’s not like I belong to her or anything. Now I have to figure out if I should go apologize.”

She pulled Rachel’s hand up and played with her fingers gently. 

“I never thought I would say this, Berry, but I kind of wish you were here. I’m sure you’d have something smart to say about all of your ‘skills as a companion’, and how you could teach me ‘how to seduce her in a second’, not that I want any of your skeevy advice. But then again, she’s a classy lady, so maybe when you’re back in commission, you could give me some pointers.”

“She’s stable. Not out of the woods, yet, but I’ve got a good feeling.” 

The voice behind Santana gave her a start, and she stood quickly to face Mike. 

Mike looked away, chagrined. “Look, Santana, I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t have any choice, but I wouldn’t have let anything happen to Rachel, you’ve got to believe me-”

He looked up and Santana was across the room on top of him in an instant. The punch went clear across his jaw, knocking him to the ground, and leaving him seeing stars. 

“怎么痛啊”

Santana was back beside Rachel before Mike could crawl to his feet. He rubbed his jaw a few times. “I guess I deserve that.”

“You deserve a lot more than that, but Puck’s not here at the moment, so it’ll have to do.”

Mike turned around and straightened out some tools that had been scattered when he fell. A dribble of blood dripped down his lip and he pressed a small piece of gauze to his mouth.

“Do you think the Captain will really kick us off the ship?”

Santana didn’t hesitate. “I really do.”

“And if she tells you to kill me.”

“Then I kill you.”

Mike smiled and grimaced from the pain. “Well, at least I know where I stand.”

There was another moment of silence, and Santana stood up, giving Rachel a firm pat on the leg, and turning to leave. 

“You fought in the Unification Wars? With the Captain?”

The question stopped Santana in her tracks. She didn’t turn, but responded, keeping her back to Mike. “Sure did.”

Mike didn’t move, but dabbed his lip a few more times before continuing. “Is that why she’s like that? The way she is? Because of what happened there?”

Santana finally turned and finally looked Mike in the eye. “What do you know about the Battle of Serenity Valley, Chang?”

Mike shook his head. “Next to nothing. I know it was a victory for the Alliance. It’s where the Browncoats laid down their arms and lead to the peaceful surrender-”

“Peaceful!” Santana snorted. “Is that what they tell you? Peaceful. 骗人! They told you it was peaceful to help you sleep at night. The Browncoats started out that battle with thirty two thousand soldiers. We started off dug in a trench and Mercedes started us looking for survivors. We were pinned down by explosions, and got rained with bombs for a full 48 hours. The only time we could breathe is when they let up the shelling long enough for the soldiers to change shifts and by the time the fighting was done, we were down to about eight thousand. Course, the Alliance lost their fair share, all of ‘em rotting on the battlefield.”

“That’s-”

“That was when the fighting was done.” Santana continued, ignoring Mike’s interruption. “We got a message that we should lay down our arms, but just because the bombs stopped falling, doesn’t mean the dead stopped dying. We sat in those trenches watching our friends drop like flies for a week. A week while they made their  _ peace _ on the core planets. A week sitting in the gore and the blood and the death. A week until the first med ship arrived. It was a nightmare.”

Mike stared. 

“She went from a platoon of 45 soldiers to commanding over two thousand. But, I reckon it didn’t feel like much of a promotion. After the bombs fell, she promised herself she wouldn’t lose another person. She lost about half.”

Santana turned to leave again. “Captain’s got a crew, she gets a job, and she finishes them. She’s not much interested in your reasons for what you’ve done.” 

Mike raised his jaw a bit. “Quinn and I will be ok.”

“I hope for your sake you’re right.”

\

“A ship?”

“Yeah, it came up on us a few minutes ago.”

“Gorramit. Don’t tell me that Alliance cruiser is back on top of us.”

“No, Mercedes, this isn’t that. It’s smaller than an Alliance rig.”

“Can you get us a read on it?”

“It’s still too far out.”

“Well, what do I keep you around for, Britt? Get me something.”

Brittany tapped a few keys and pulled down a lever. She fiddled with the buttons for a few moments, and Mercedes tried not to get impatient. They were floating through space at a total standstill, trying their best not to draw attention to themselves. Songbird was a tiny ship, Firefly vessels tended to be, and when they wanted to hide in the spaces between the stars it was usually a pretty simple feat. But, Mercedes still held her breath as she waited for a response. 

“It looks like a Purveyor Class vessel. Mark 4T-17.”

“Purveyor? I thought they decommissioned those years ago.” 

“They did. Probably about sixty years, to be exact. It’s not Alliance. I think…” Brittany moved forward taking a closer look at the small screen. There was a moment longer, and she pointed to the bigger screen in front of both of them. “There.”

“What-?” Mercedes’ eyes went wide as she leaned towards the screen. There was a large darkness floating towards them, but it wasn’t clear what it was. She could see the odd, angular shaped of the Purveyor, but beyond that she couldn’t be sure. Brittany’s voice shook a little as she spoke. 

“Mercedes... I think it’s a Reaver ship.”

The fear was clear in Brittany’s voice and they exchanged a look over the console, and Mercedes reached for the comm. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, please try to contain yourselves for the next few moments, it seems that we are in the vicinity of a Reaver vessel. Doesn’t look like they’re looking for us, so’s best we sit tight, and I reckon they’ll go about their business.”

-

“Reavers?” 

Kurt looked at Sugar, who was staring back at him, wide eyed. 

“What do we-?” Sugar let her sentence trail off, and stopped, not sure of what to say. 

Kurt didn’t say a word, but grabbed her by the hand and jogged off, heading down the hallway towards the engine room. He shut the door firmly behind them, dismantling the trap he’d just only rebuilt, in a matter of seconds, and bringing a heavy bar down over the door. He then took Sugar’s hand again, and pulled her behind him, handing her a large wrench, and pulling another from a box. He pushed Sugar behind the engine block, and scooted beside her, crouching down low. They both faced the door, their makeshift weapons rattling nervously in their hands.

-

Santana stood with one foot in the med bay, the other in the hallway. Mike was at her side in an instant, and she barely had time to flinch from his nearness. 

“Reavers?”

Santana pursed her lips and didn’t reply, looking skyward nervously. 

“Th-that can’t be right. Reavers aren’t real. They’re just a fairy tale. They’re-”

Santana spun around, slapping a hand over Mike’s mouth to stem the flood of hysteria that seemed to flow like a waterfall. “Mike?”

“Y-yes?” Mike said, his voice muffled behind Santana’s hand. 

“First off, you need to calm down. Secondly, the Captain wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true. Thirdly, trust me. Reavers are real. You run into plenty of monstrosities out here on the rim, and they’re the worst I’ve ever seen.”

Mike gulped. “The worst?”

"If they take the ship, they'll rape us to death, eat our flesh, and sew our skins into their clothing. And, if we're very, very lucky, they'll do it in that order.”

Mike didn’t respond but didn’t meet Santana’s eye. 

She turned and headed towards the bridge.

-

“Reavers?”

Puck grunted in response as Quinn came to stand close by his elbow. 

“Why doesn’t the captain do something? Why doesn’t she run? The longer we stay here, they longer they have to find us.”

Quinn’s voice barely rose above a whisper, but there was a sharp strain behind her words. She was even further shaken by the fact that this was the most serious she’d ever seen Puck. 

“We can’t outrun ‘em. We’ve seen what happens to ships that try. The best thing to do is turn off all the systems, and hope they don’t see us. We’re a small ship, smaller than any we’ve seen this side of Persephone.”

“Then what-?”

“The only hope we have is that they don’t notice us. No heat signatures, no exhaust trail, no signature spikes. We gotta be ghosts. Reavers don’t mess with ghosts. It’s the only chance we have.”

Shannon stood up beside them and sighed towards the heavens. “This can’t be real. Reavers? When I joined this ship, I never thought we’d run into this sort of trouble. I just thought-”

“Shepherd?” Quinn cut off Shannon’s near hysterical tone with her calm one, and took the other woman’s hand. “I’m not much for praying, but perhaps you can lead us in one. Maybe a silent one, if that’s ok.”

Shepherd Beiste turned to Quinn and there was another quick moment before recognition hit her eye. She smiled thinly, and nodded, taking a firmer grip on Quinn’s hand, and reaching for Puck’s as well. He didn’t shrink away from the contact, so she bowed her her, mumbling in quiet prayer. 

“Lord, guide and protect us…”

-

“Raiding party.”

Mercedes didn’t bother to turn around as Santana quietly climbed the stairs. She kept her eyes glued towards the screen, looking for something, anything, that would signal that the Reavers had taken notice of them, and were headed their way. 

“I take it this isn’t the first one you’ve seen?” Brittany asked, turning towards Santana. 

“No, not the first. But this is the first one this far out. It seems like they’re going further and further out every day.”

Santana reached Brittany’s chair and crouched beside it, taking her own view of the screen. Mercedes noticed a quick movement, and Santana’s hand was cradled between Brittany’s own in her lap. Had she not been so stressed out, she might have mentioned it. 

A few tensioned filled seconds later, and the Reaver ship passed by, without so much as a sensor scan in their direction. They all breathed a sigh of relief as Mercedes collapsed into the other pilot’s chair. She pulled out the handset. 

“This is Captain Jones to the crew and passengers of Songbird. We are in the clear. I repeat, we are in the clear. Buckle down kids, I’m declaring no more crises until we get where we’re going.”

She clicked off the comm with a sigh and looked over to Brittany and Santana, who were were murmuring to each other, their foreheads pressed together as they spoke. 

“You two made up, I suppose?”

They snapped apart, and looked away, guiltily, but Mercedes only chuckled softly. 

“Oh, you don’t have anything to prove to me. Just glad to see someone’s having a good day. I’m off to go talk to our lawman. Santana, tell Puck to meet me down in the hold.”

Santana raised an eyebrow. “Puck, sir?”

“Yes, Puck. You get down to the engine room, and make sure Kurt has everything up and running. We’re taking the mule down to the planet. Make sure we’ve got the coordinates for the drop zone as well. I want to be on a wave with the contact as soon as we’re in range.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh and Santana? Brittany?”

They both turned. 

“If I catch you two doing the dirty on my bridge, you’re both paying to have it professionally cleaned.”

Santana groaned, burying her head in Brittany’s lap. 

\

Puck liked torture. 

To be fair, he liked inflicting torture on other people. He wasn’t a sadist, not really, but there was a certain amount of power and influence that torturing others gave him, and he liked that. He liked being the one in charge. 

Plus there was Rachel to think about. She was a pretty girl, of course. Just the thought of her ‘servicing’ one of her clients made his John Thomas want to say ‘how do you do?’ He’d have to be blind not to see it. She was a professional. But, for a while now he’d been seeing her as more than just a working girl. More and more he’d been seeing her as a person. It was a weird transition to make, but the feeling that rose up when that Fed had shot her was more than just the feeling that one gets when they see a pretty thing destroyed. It was more than just the feeling that  _ his _ pretty thing had been destroyed (though Rachel was not his, and she’d probably knee him in his nads for even thinking it). No, the feeling that had gripped him when he’d seen her laying there, all gussied up in her pretty dress, every hair in perfect place, and her makeup done just so, that feeling had been anger. His friend had been hurt. His friend could have died. 

And it was all this Fed’s fault. 

“So, we’re playing good cop, bad cop. Are you familiar with this game, Puck?”

Puck tried to focus on Mercedes’ words, but the only thing he was getting out of it was that he was going to get to make that Fed mighty uncomfortable. 

“Good cop, Cap’n?”

“Yes, good cop, bad cop. I’m going to be the good cop. You’re the bad cop.”

An evil grin took over Puck’s face. “I’m thinking I like this game, Cap.”

“Listen. And you’ve gotta focus here, Puck.” Mercedes put a hand on the back of Puck’s neck, pulling him close. “The point is to scare him. We’ve gotta know what he knows, and what he told the ship. We should probably know sooner than later. The less he knows, the less likely it is that we gotta kill him.”

Puck frowned slightly. “We don’t get to kill him?”

“Not if we can afford it, Puckerman, now get it together.”

“What, are you getting soft on me now, ‘Cedes?”

Mercedes rolled her eyes, and pushed Puck away, putting a hand on the rolling door to the hold. “Just remember what I said, Puck. Bad cop. You’re going for scary, ok?”

Puck smiled evilly as Mercedes pulled open the door. “Oh, I can do that. Pain is scary.”

Mercedes did her best to ignore him, and took a few steps into the room, kneeling to where Hudson was tied up on the floor. She reached around, pulling the gag out of this mouth.

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation you’re in, Captain. Detaining an officer of the law is a crime of the highest order! Now, I have you on harboring fugitives, hauling contraband, theft-”

Mercedes sighed, yanking Finn’s hair back, causing him to yelp. 

“I don’t care about all that, Hudson. I just want to know what you told them.”

Finn sneered. “I told them everything! They’re going to come down on you like thunder from heaven, Jones. They’re going to bring the cavalry. They know everything you’re up to, and they’ll be here before you can blink- Ow!”

Mercedes had tugged on his scalp again, confirming that it was the quickest way to shut him up. 

“See… And you’re going to laugh about this someday, probably… I don’t believe you, Hudson. Now, my friend and I hear wanna know what you told them. And we wanna know everything. I don’t much have the heart to do what needs to be done. I’m not a sadist like that. But my friend here, well, he has no reservations about such things.”

Puck took that as his cue and pulled a freakishly large knife out of his boot. “None at all.”

Mercedes gave him a significant look and stood. “Well, you have at it, Puck. I’d start talking if I was you, Mr. Hudson. He is not a patient man.”

As Mercedes turned to go, she put a heavy hand on Puck’s shoulder. “Remember what I said, Puck. You’re not supposed to kill him.”

“Oh don’t worry, Cap’n. There’s plenty of stuff I can do to him while he’s still alive.”

Mercedes suppressed her involuntary shudder and gave Puck a firm pat, leaving the hold, and closing the door firmly behind her. 

“Captain!”

She tried not to jump at the loud voice that rang out behind her, turning as slowly as she could muster. “Yes, Sugar?”

Sugar was dressed in another ridiculous outfit, and looked like she’d just come off of some billionaire’s yacht, but there was still a part of Mercedes that was going to miss having her around. If at least for the joy that it brought her seeing someone else annoy Rachel for once in a while. 

“Hey Captain, it’s just that we were interrupted earlier, and I didn’t get a chance to talk to you about everything. I mean, why I think that that lawman is on board, and maybe why this whole thing started.”

Mercedes tried hard not to roll her eyes, and started off towards the bridge. She let them roll freely when Sugar followed.

“Well, Sugar, far be it from me to start throwing out wild accusations, but I think it might have something to do with the two fugitives that we have on board with a huge bounty on their heads? Of course, I’m no expert.”

“Maybe, Captain, maybe, but I have another theory. I mean, I think that having Quinn and Mike wanted and on the run from the law sure does complicate things quite a bit, but it’s not the only matter.”

Mercedes sighed and tried to continue on in the most patient voice she could. “Sugar, I know that you tend to see yourself as the center of the universe, but there is more going on than-”

“I’m a lesbian.”

There was a long moment of quiet as Mercedes stood, one foot suspended on a rung on the later to the second level of the ship, the other firmly planted on the floor. 

“Come again?”

“I’m a lesbian. As in, I don’t like men.”

Mercedes pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment, and continued up the ladder. “Well, be that as it may, Sugar, we don’t judge on this ship, and you’ll find that even the Shepherd has a soft spot for folks of that persuasion.”

“Oh please, Captain, I’m not telling you because I expected you to be appalled.” 

Mercedes tried to keep her cool as she joined Brittany back on the bridge, flipping a few switches on the console. 

“Anyway, I see the way you look at Quinn, and if that’s any indication, you’ve got no probably with women who have  _ certain feelings _ towards other women.”

Brittany’s attention was on Sugar in a flash, and she barely hid her grin. “Really, Sugar? Go on.”

“Ah ah ah.” Mercedes interrupted. “There is nothing going on there, so you can get those visions of playing Cupid right out of your head. Anyway, Sugar what are you trying to say?”

Sugar sighed as if Mercedes were trying to be obtuse. “There was a guy. Back home. Son of a big family. Not as big as the Mottas, but who could be?”

“Kurt’s ready, Captain. Says whatever you throw at him, he can take it. What are we talking about?”

Brittany swiveled in her chair to face Santana. “We’re talking about how the Captain is always making hearteyes at Quinn.” 

Santana’s eyes grew wide. “Hearteyes? At Quinn?”

Mercedes fixed them both with a glare, and turned her attention back to Sugar. “No. We were not. Sugar was telling us about how she’s a lesbian.”

Sugar stamped her foot. “No, Captain. I was telling you about this boy, Jacob Ben Israel. Anyway, he’s from another family that does business like we do. And he’s got it in his head that we’re supposed to be get married. But, I wouldn’t marry him if he would the last person in the ‘verse. And… well… I told him so. And he didn’t like that.”

This seemed to catch the attention of the room and they all focused in on Sugar’s story. 

“Whaddya mean, Sugar?” Asked Brittany. 

“Well, just that. He started showing up everywhere I was, sending waves and gifts all the time. He said he wanted to marry me if it was the last thing he did. That’s why my daddy had to send me away. He figured it was the only way I’d be safe until all this died down.”

Mercedes shook her head. “Well, why didn’t he tell us all of this before? Would’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”

“But wait, a lawman? Seems rather fortuitous that he could manage to get a lawman to do his dirty work for him.” Santana said. 

“What can I say? His family is well connected.” Sugar grimaced. “Look, I don’t know if this is what’s really going on. And maybe my guy has nothing to do with it, but I just thought you all should know.”

They sat in silence for a moment, turning on this new information in their heads when the console beeped. Brittany turned and looked at it quickly, nodding towards Mercedes. 

“It’s out contact on the ground. They want to set up Sugar’s drop off.”

“Bring it up.”

The console lit up, and suddenly, the face of an older woman filled the screen. 

“Is this the Songbird?”

“That it is. This is Captain Jones. I’ve got the package from Al Motta, and I’m ready for drop off.”

“Good, good. I’ll send the coordinates now. You can meet us there.”

“And you’ve got the payment?”

“Yes, of course. I’ve got it right here. Ready for the trade. Just meet us there, and we’ll be ready.”

“See you in a bit.”

The screen went dark and Mercedes couldn’t wipe the frown off of her face. 

“You thinking what I’m thinking, Captain?” Santana asked. 

“Too easy. It’s gotta be a trap.”

“Set up by Jacob?” Sugar piped up. 

“I don’t rightly know, but my sixth sense is tingling. We got too much going wrong with this job. Whatever we do, we’ve gotta go in with our eyes wide open.”

There was a chorus of agreements behind her. 

“Put in the coordinates, Brittany, we’re going to finish this job.”

Brittany typed quickly on the console with a smile. “Shiny!”


	4. ...Get Paid

Kitty woke up on a cot and started to panic even before her eyes were fully open. She thrashed against arms clawing and explosions that flung debris into her eyes. 

“Wilde is waking up, ma’am.” A lilting voice said near Kitty’s head, and she jerked away from it. 

Hands were on her shoulders and she struggled even harder. 

“Good, back off, Rose. I’m going to give her something”

Kitty felt a sharp prick and slowly the panic faded and she felt the calm returning to her mind. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at a bright, white ceiling, and suddenly a masked face leaned over her. 

“Private Wilde, can you hear me?”

Kitty blinked a few times, and nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Her voice was froggy, so she cleared it and tried again. “I’m here, ma’am. I’m awake.”

The facemask came down and Kitty was looking at a smiling face. Her eyes shifted to the name patch on the woman’s chest.  _ Del Monico _ . 

Del Monico and the one called Rose spent a few minutes looking at charts and readouts, punching numbers into a machine, and poking and prodding Kitty all over before they returned their attention to her face. 

“I’m Major Terri Del Monico, at your service.” The blonde woman nodded over to the other. “And this is Lieutenant Marley Rose. She’s been looking after you for the past couple of days. Do you know what day it is?”

Kitty shut her eyes for a moment, and snapped them back open. She looked around the room; crisp and sterile. It was nothing like the bunker that she’d been in before. She listened for the sounds that were familiar to her, Corporal Lopez, the squabbling of the McCarthys, distant mortar fire. But nothing came through. She shook her head. 

“No ma’am. The last thing I remember is being in a bunker. I don’t remember much else.”

Del Monico nodded thoughtfully, and turned, murmuring something to Rose. She turned back and the chipper smile was replaced with something a bit more strained. 

“Do you remember how you got to the bunker, Wilde?”

Kitty closed her eyes again, a bit longer this time, and placed a hand over her eyes. Suddenly the memories came flooding back. They were back in the bunker, all of them. She hadn’t thought that Mason and Sergeant Jones were going to make it, and finally they’d come busting down the steps, ass over tea kettle. They’d both been knocked unconscious by a flying shell, but the Sergeant was up and giving orders before and hour was up. Mason… Well, Mason had seemed fine at first, but by the end of the day was back in bed. Madison wouldn’t leave his side. And he’d just faded and faded until…

“Private Wilde?”

Major Del Monico’s voice cut through the memory and Kitty snapped back to the present. 

“Yes, ma’am? Sorry, ma’am.”

“I asked you if you remembered how you’d gotten into the bunker.”

There was no hesitation this time. “Yes, ma’am. The 57th Overland found me, and brought me over. They saved me ma’am. Sergeant Mercedes Jones and her crew.”

Terri nodded and again turned to Marley, muttering a few words. She turned back. 

“How about before that, Wilde?”

There was something that the major wasn’t asking, and Kitty couldn’t be sure of what it was. On second thought, why would a major be here asking her questions about the 57th? Why would she be here at all? Suddenly the room was too bright and too busy and too loud. Kitty could feel her breath picking up again. 

“Her heart rates up, ma’am.” Marley said. 

“Yes, I can see that, Lieutenant.” Terri’s voice was flat and affectless. “Bring her down, I’ll be back later.”

Major Del Monico walked away and Kitty was left alone with Marley. She could feel her veins burning as some new drug was introduced into her system. She reached a hand out. 

“Lieutenant. What does she want from me? What does she want to know?”

Marley shrugged and kept her head down, focusing on the machine that was attached to Kitty, the frantic beeping now dropping into a monotonous rhythm. Kitty tried again. 

“Where is the 57th? Corporal Jones? Everybody? Are they okay? Why is she here asking about them?”

Marley looked like she wasn’t going to say a word, then she quickly lowered the touchpad she’d been desperately stabbing at and sneaking a glance towards the door. 

Seeing it was clear, she kneeled beside Kitty’s bed. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Kitty could feel the effects of whatever drug she’d been given pulling at her mind. She blinked a few times to steady herself and took a deep breath. 

“It was the day after the surrender. We were in the bunker. People were sick.” Her eyes went wider as the memories came flooding back.  “They were dying. Mason…” She couldn’t finish the thought. 

“You leg got infected, and they put you under. Hoping you’d make it until the med ships came.” Marley finished. 

“But-”

“Ten days. It’s been ten days since you got broke with Company C. As far as we could tell, anyway.”

Kitty shook her head. “But that’s impossible. It’d spent four days in the bunker already-”

“How’d you get to the 57th, Wilde?”

“What?”

“Company C was obliterated. Wiped off the map. Far as we can tell, not a single person survived. Except for you, of course. I think that’s what the Major wants to know. People are asking questions about it. How does a single soldier from Company C end up mixed in with the 57th? She wants to know how you survived.”

There was a long pause between the two of them. Kitty found it hard keeping her eyes open, but she wanted to respond. She knew she had to. 

“I ran. I ran as hard as I could, and I never looked back.”

“Private Wilde-”

“I just ran.”

\

The thing about a set up is that even when you know it’s a set up, even when you know that things aren’t on the up and up, you can never be sure exactly how things are going to go wrong. 

Brittany hadn’t known either Santana or Mercedes for that long. She didn’t have to. She wouldn’t have taken the job as their pilot if she had even for a second not trusted them. But for most jobs she was tucked in safe on the bridge. She only had to think about escape routes and evasion techniques. But lately, every time they’d set off the ship, she’d felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. One that seemed to know exactly how to make her paranoid. The one that kept whispering that they might not come back.

She’d started the landing procedures on the captain’s orders. They’d be on the ground in minutes. Not too far from where she and Santana were meeting Al Motta’s contact. Only a few minutes before the Captain and Puck and Sugar were out on the mule and on their way. Only a few minutes before Santana went along with them. Only a few minutes before she was off to a meeting that could very well not go as planned. 

On the ship, she was the one in control. She knew exactly what buttons to push on the console to make Songbird do exactly what she wanted. She knew what buttons to push on the crew too. She knew that if she wanted something done doubletime quick in the engine room, all she had to do was promise Kurt some strawberries when they landed. She knew that the fastest way to get some entertainment going was to suggest that Puck should challenge Shannon to an arm wrestling contest. And even with the escapades of the day, she knew that Mike would be trusted on to put a smile on her face with a joke, and was a terrific dancer. She knew what things were what there on Songbird. She knew which way was up and could (for the most part) expect things to work out in a certain way. But when they were on the ground, she couldn’t help how powerless she felt. And this was when everything was going well. This was when everything was planned to perfection. And this was certainly not one of those situations. 

“So, you’re going to take the Mule?”

“Yeah.” Santana said absentmindedly. 

“And you’re going to meet at the coordinates?”

“Yeah.”

Santana leaned over the console, taking stock of the rendezvous point on the read out. She was doing her best to ignore Brittany, but, of course, that proved to be near impossible. 

“And you’re going to take Sugar.”

Santana sighed exasperatedly. “Well, yeah, Britt, they’d know as soon as we got there if we didn’t have Sugar.”

Brittany sat back, and then sat forward again. “So, you want to tell me how this isn’t falling into the trap exactly?”

“It isn’t, ok?”

“How?”

“Well, because the Captain has a plan.”

“A plan to do exactly what they say?”

“Yeah, that’s a part of it.”

“And the rest?”

“Puck’s going to be there. He’s going to be pulling point.”

“And if they spot him? Or get you in a bind?”

“I guess we’ll figure that out at the time.”

“Gorramit, Santana, I’m being serious!” Brittany brought her hand down in the fist on the console. Immediately regretting her decision, and rubbing a hand over where she’d struck, she muttered a quiet apology to Songbird. 

Santana stopped, sitting up and regarding her carefully. “I don’t get why you care, Britt. Anyway, I thought you were mad at me from before.” 

Brittany rolled her eyes. “And I thought we were over that. I figure you’ve got your reasons for falling in step behind Mercedes. I know a bit about them, and maybe I won’t ever know all of them. But that’s not for me to say. Anyway, that doesn’t mean I want you to go off half cocked with some shoddy plan that gets you killed.” 

“If that’s an apology, it sucks.”

“It’s not.”

“Not what?”

Brittany sighed. “Not an apology.”

“Well, here goes my non-apology as well. I know you don’t get me and the Captain, and I’ve seen and done a lot of things that I’m not altogether proud of. But, we did what we had to do. And we still do. Not just for myself, Britt, but for everybody on this boat. For you.”

Brittany regarded her carefully, and nodded. “Well, non-apology not accepted.”

“Same.”

Santana turned back to her console and looked through the viewfinder for a moment more. “Anyway, I still don’t see why you care.”

“What?”

“Why do you care if I get killed? Like, I get it, we’re friends. You like me. But, I’ve been on this boat a long time, and I’ll be here a long time and-”

Brittany stood up, putting both of her hands on Santana’s arms, turning her around and squeezing gently. To be honest, she’d never met a more clueless person. She’d tried dropping hints, she’d tried being subtle, but obviously, she’s was dealing with a case of advanced dopeyness. She waited until Santana’s voice trailed off and cleared her throat. 

“Santana?”

Santana’s eyes got wide and swallowed. “Uh, yes, Britt?”

“Santana, I know we  haven’t known each other that long…”

“Yeah, Britt.”

“But, I really, really like you.”

“What-?”

“And, I want you to come back safe.”

Santana nodded nervously. 

“Now, I’m going to kiss you. If that’s ok. Is that ok, Santana?”

Santana’s eyes got impossibly wider and she nodded again. 

“Just tell me to stop if it’s not ok.”

Brittany watched carefully as she leaned in, and then, ever so softly, pressed her lips against Santana’s. The drone of the engines and the machinery on the bridge faded to a distant hum as she felt the fullness of Santana’s lips against her own. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like when they first really kissed. To be completely honest she’d spent more than her fair share of time studying the roundness of of Santana’s mouth, and the exquisite shape of her lips. She’d imagined that the moment of the kiss would have happened after a long night’s dish session, or particularly enthusiastic game of chess that would be over once Brittany stole Santana’s king and hid it somewhere on her person. She always had her ways of getting close to Santana. She’d always had her little tricks. But she didn’t feel like playing tricks anymore. The only important thing now is that Santana knew how important she was to her. 

The kiss itself was a magical thing. Brittany could almost feel her feet rising off of the floor. If she had spent hours imagining what it would be like to kiss Santana, even her wildest fantasies were nothing compared to the reality. Santana’s mouth was warm and inviting, and after a moment (a nanosecond really) of surprised resistance, she melted into Brittany so completely that Brittany nearly melted herself. 

As she felt her heart racing, and the kiss becoming more insistent, Brittany pulled back suddenly, snapping her eyes open and meeting Santana’s dreamy expression with one of her own. She hadn’t wanted it to end, but she figured another moment and it would have gone from a chaste expression of concern to a full out make out session, and she didn’t want to be a distraction. Not yet anyway. She’d save that for when Santana was back safely. 

“I hope that was ok.”

“Yeah? Ok? Yeah, no, it was, yeah.”

“Santana?”

Santana, who’d still had her eyes closed, opened them lazily and gave Brittany a smile. “Yeah, Britt?”

“Do you know why I did that?”

There was a moment of indecision, and Santana didn’t hold her gaze. 

“Because…”

“Because I like you. And I’m pretty sure you like me.”

“Oh, I do!” Santana moved forward this time, taking Brittany’s hands. “I really do.”

“Good. I couldn’t let you go without telling you that. And making sure you really get… How, um, important you are to me. I couldn’t let you go without you knowing that. Just promise me that you won’t go out of your way to get yourself killed, please?”

“I promise, Britt.”

They looked at each other a moment longer in silence before Mercedes’ voice filled the bridge. 

“Santana, how are we looking down there? Are we ready? Puck is getting antsy, and you know I can’t give him the rifle without him wanting to pull the trigger before too long. I don’t care if it’s loaded or not, Puck, you are not allowed until we get planetside! Brittany, let’s go, I want to get her landed. Have you started protocols yet?” 

Brittany freed one of her hands, and reached over, pressing a button on the dash. “We’ll be landed in about three minutes, Cap’n. And Santana is on her way down now.”

“Good. You’re in charge until I get back. What in the ruttin’ hell? Puck I swear on the seven hells if you don’t put that back where you got it from, so help me-”

The comm cut off, and there was silence again. Brittany smiled as Santana leaned forward pressing her head on Brittany’s shoulder. 

“Do you think you’re ready?”

“Yeah, I figure I’m about as prepared as I can be.”

“Remember your promise, Santana. You’ve gotta come back to me.”

There was a hitch in Santana’s voice before she replied. She cleared her throat. “I know it, Britt. I’ll come back.”

With that, and without another glance, Santana left the bridge, and was down the ladder in a flash. Brittany sat back down at the controls, and made ready to ease Songbird in for a landing. 

“You’d better, Lopez.”

-

They were still a few minutes out, but Mercedes couldn’t stand it anymore, and sent Puck to the mess hall to find some tape. She wasn’t sure she’d need it, but Puck always got so antsy before a job, the best thing to do was to be rid of him for a while. Once the job started, sure, he was one of the best, but only if she didn’t kill him before they got out there. 

She had busied herself checking the ammo tins when she heard footsteps approaching. They weren’t the commanding ones of her first mate, or the careless ones that told her Puck had finished the job more quickly than she’d assumed. They were quiet, thoughtful. She didn’t need to turn to know who they belonged to. 

“Can I help you, Ms. Chang? Or should I say, Fabray?”

“Chang will do just fine.”

They both hesitated for a moment. 

“Rachel’s awake.”

Mercedes smiled to herself. “Is that so?”

“Yes, she’s, um, well, she won’t stop talking. I suppose that’s how we know she’s almost at 100%.”

“That’s our Rachel.”

“She kept saying she wanted to see you and complain about the “treatment she’s been getting most recently”, but honestly, I think she’s just glad to be alive.”

“I’ll have to go check on her once I get back.”

“Yes, you should.”

Mercedes frowned and slowly turned away from the ammo crates. There was something in Quinn’s voice that gave her pause. There was something missing. 

“But, I get the feeling you didn’t come all the way down here just to give me the good news. What’s going on, Chang?”

Mercedes should have expected a long, drawn out answer, but she knew Quinn far too well for that. 

“I’m here to ask for a favor, Captain.”

“A favor?”

“Yes. I know you’re not one to give them lightly, but I don’t feel that I have much of a choice in this case.” 

What little good natured humor Mercedes was able to muster up left when she heard Quinn’s tone. “What is it?”

“First of all, I want to apologize for Mike. I mean, what happened with Mike. I’m sure he’ll apologize himself, because he likes Rachel, I know he does, but he was desperate.”

Mercedes didn’t say anything, but this was the first time she’d heard Quinn speak so quickly. Usually everything she said was measured and planned. Now, it was as if she had no idea what she was going to say next. 

“He isn’t like that. Not really. The man I know… The one I grew up with would never have done something like that. It’s not to excuse it, but to say that I know how desperate he must have felt. He thought he didn’t have a choice, and maybe he didn’t. But I do.”

“A choice in what?”

“You have business that’s going to take you to Greenleaf, right? That’s why you’re going there after you leave here.”

Mercedes nodded. 

“I ask that you leave me here. On Constance”

“By yourself? Don’t get me wrong, Constance ain’t no hellhole, but it’s no place for a respectable lady such as yourself to-” 

“I know the risks, Captain. All I ask is that you don’t tell Mike. Once he gets to Greenleaf, he’ll try to get back here, but hopefully by then, I’ll be long gone.”

“By yourself Quinn? Out in the ‘Verse? Facing who knows what? 太危险.”

“Believe it or not, Captain, I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it a long time. Mike’ll be better off without me. I don’t like the man he’s becoming out here. And maybe that’s my doing, and maybe it isn’t, but I think that if I’m gone he’ll have a better chance.”

Quinn’s voice betrayed her uncertainty, but Mercedes didn’t call her out on it. In fact, all things being equal, she was rather proud. It took a certain amount of guts to do what Quinn wanted to do. Mercedes didn’t envy her position, but she could admire the way she was dealing with it. 

“Mike wouldn’t forgive me, Quinn.”

“And what do you care? You’re putting us out at Greenleaf already. Together or apart shouldn’t make a difference to you.” Her chin stuck out defiantly. “Anyway, once whoever that Fed contacted gets a hold of us, we’re all going to be running regardless. I’d just rather do it alone. Less baggage that way.”

Mercedes looked Quinn up and down for a long moment. “I reckon so.”

“So, what do you say, Captain? Mercedes?” 

Mercedes hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Fine. If you’re sure that’s what you want to do.”

“I am.”

“Ok. All I ask is that you wait until we get back from the drop before you set off. This job could go dangerous, and you don’t want to be walking off into the unknown and there’s bullets flying.”

Now the hesitation came from Quinn, but she nodded as well. “Fine. But I won’t wait forever, Captain.”

“No, I doubt you wouldn’t.”

Quinn stuck out her hand to Mercedes, smiling slightly. “It’s been, well, it’s been interesting Captain. I don’t think I’ll cross paths with someone as entertaining as you again.”

Mercedes took Quinn’s hand, shaking it firmly. “Same goes for you, Chang. Quinn.”

The name hung in the air and neither wanted to be the one who broke the spell. They stood there, hands still clasped, regarding each other carefully. 

“Captain-. Mercedes-” Quinn started.

“Captain, we’re all ready to go. The area’s scoped out and I got this really nice spot for Puck to-” Santana stopped on the stairs, frowning as she watched Mercedes and Quinn take a step back from each other. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“What? No!” Quinn said quickly, smoothing her clothes, and brushing past Santana up the stairs. “I was just chatting with the Captain for a moment. Have fun on your little expedition, Santana. Don’t get killed.”

“What’s with everybody thinking that we’re going to get killed? It’s a simple drop off, we’ve done it a million times before!” Santana shouted after her. She watched Quinn climb the steps out of the cargo bay, and moved towards Mercedes, climbing up into the mule and checking her weapons. 

Santana busied herself for a few moments, and Mercedes went back to her ammo crates. When she had counted, re-counted and re-re-counted, she sat down with a thump. 

“Well?”

“Yes, sir?” 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what that was all about?”

Santana seemed to think about it for a moment. 

She scratched her chin. “Wasn’t planning on it, Captain. But, I figure you’ll tell me if you want me to know.”

Mercedes opened her mouth to respond, but Puck was barrelling down the stairs, stomping his way towards them. 

“I found the tape, Cap’n! It was by the hold, so I thought I’d go rough up that Fed a bit more before we got on our way.”

“Just get in the mule, Puck.”

Sugar came down the steps a moment later, and delicately climbed aboard. 

“It’s certainly not the most comfortable way to travel, is it, Captain?”

“I suppose not, Ms. Motta, but I hope we won’t have to be in it for too long. Wouldn’t want you to bruise up.”

Santana made a great show of checking her shotgun, but directed her comments towards Mercedes. “I take it you and Quinn made up?”

“I told you, hearteyes.” Sugar offered. 

“It don’t matter much now.” 

There was a defeated tone in Mercedes voice, and Santana met Sugar’s gaze, wide eyed. “Captain-”

“Let’s just finish this job. It’s all we’ve got left to do now. We needed it, and we need the cash. And just pray that everything goes alright.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a thud that signified Songbird had finally touched down and a chirp on their radios confirmed it. 

“We’re landed, Captain. Opening the bay doors now.” Brittany said. 

“Good.” Mercedes said, pressing a button on her radio. “I take it that you and Brittany made up?”

Mercedes turned a cheeky grin to Santana, who didn’t meet her eye. 

“W-what makes you say that, Captain?” 

“Well, I know your shade Santana, and bubblegum pink just ain’t it.”

Santana’s eyes went wide, and she frantically rubbed her sleeve across her lips a few times.

“Romance is in the air? What a time to be aboard Songbird!” Sugar swooned. 

“Oh, that’s hot.” Whispered Puck. 

“Enough, you two. We’ve got a drop to ruin.”

“Shiny!” Puck said, pulling back the hammer on his rifle. “Let’s be bad guys.”

With that Mercedes guided the mule out of the cargo hold, and they were on their way. 

\

“Where is she?”

Lieutenant Marley Rose looked up from her tablet. She’d been monitoring the sleep of one of her many patients, and trying her best not to think about the death and despair she’d seen over the last few days. She hadn’t even been with the Browncoats for that long before she’d be called to serve, and even a shorter time between then and the surrender. If it were up to her she’d still be back on Ariel, learning her trade. But, the call had come for medics, and while she hadn’t been on any one side in particular during the fighting, she knew folks who had, and had signed up with the effort. That wasn’t to say she was a Browncoat. Or a Purple belly for that matter. She was just Marley. Regardless, she hadn’t been prepared to see all the death she’d seen in the last few weeks.

The Browncoats had given up the effort, and the Alliance had accepted their surrender. Medships in the area had been dispatched all over the system, but her rig and her promotion seeking commander had ended up in the Georgian system. It was all well and good considering that this place probably needed them more than any other. Her boss, Major Del Monico was more interested in looking good to the Alliance than actually doing any good. But Marley followed orders and helped out when she could. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do. 

Luckily for them, medics were considered low on the list of potential war criminals, so they were left to do as they pleased. Unfortunately for her, at the moment, there were plenty of 生闷气的 Browncoats skulking the halls to make her life miserable. 

“Can I help you?”

The woman who approached her now was one such soldier. She was bandaged up pretty good, her arm in a sling, and the other hand completely covered. But she had the bearing of a commanding officer, so, Marley tried to giver her some respect. 

“Can I help you, please?”

The woman marched up to her, stabbing a finger in her direction. “I am looking for Private Kitty Wilde. I heard she was being held here, and I won’t abide by any more delays.”

Marley noted the nametape and rank of the fellow officer, and tried out her most pleasant voice. “I’m sorry Corporal Jones, but Private Wilde isn’t-”

“Now, you listen to me, gorramit. I’ve been put through too much today and every day leading up to this point to be talked down to by some mealy mouthed space surgeon. I aim to see Private Wilde, and I will see her now. With or without your help.”

Marley thought for a moment about calling security. Her fellow doctors and the nurses on the unit were looking to her, ready to take her lead. But there was something in the Corporal’s voice that made her stop. She could keep fighting, but there was something there that told her it would be a losing battle. 

Marley pointed towards the end of one of the rows. “She’s down there.”

Jones took off at a fast clip, and Marley followed. Kitty was laying there, wafting in and out of consciousness. The last of the fever brought on by infection still doing it’s best to make life more difficult for her. The corporal kneeled beside the bed, taking quick stock of Kitty’s situation and looking at her closely. 

“How long has she been like this?” she asked, not looking at Marley. 

“A few days. We’re fairly sure she’ll pull through, but she doesn’t seem to be getting any better or worse. We think her leg might be healed soon enough, though.”

Jones sighed, but didn’t respond. 

“I thought she was in Company C.”

“What? Oh, yeah. She was.”

“Then why are you here? I thought were commanding the 57th?”

Corporal Jones sighed. “I was. I mean, I am. But, she was with us at the end. I wanted to see with my own two eyes that she was ok. We lost so many. We lost-”

She trailed off, and Marley didn’t ask for her to finish.

“Anyway, I just wanted to make sure she was alright. I didn’t want to lose another one, not when we were so close.”

There was a moment of silence before Marley cleared  her throat. “You should let her sleep, Corporal. I have a feeling she’s going to need her rest.”

Jones stood up quickly and took one last look at the bed. “You’ll take care of her, won’t you? You’ll make sure that she’s ok?”

“Of course, Corporal, that’s what we do here.”

“Good, good. I guess I’ve got no choice but to trust you.”

Marley smiled. “Try to get some rest, yourself, Corporal Jones. You look like you could use it.”

“You’re probably right.”

Marley watched as Jones walked away. She couldn’t be sure, but there was a sadness in her shoulders that seeing Wilde seemed to make worse, not better. She could only imagine what Jones had seen. The misery, the despair, the death… It really made her wonder if it was all worth it. In the end, whatever she did wouldn’t be able to erase those horrific memories from the minds of the soldiers that she treated. Long after the physical scars were gone, the mental ones would endure. Long past the point of treatment, long past the point of cure. She felt helpless thinking about it. 

Marley shook herself.  She took one last look at Private Wilde, and checked her vitals. There was no point getting caught up in all that. In what could and should be. She could only do what she could, and move on. She only hoped that everyone there could do the same. 

\

“Testing, testing. You hearing me alright, Captain?”

Mercedes rolled her eyes at Puck, who was close by her elbow. “‘Course I am, Puck, I’m standing right here.”

“Oh yeah, you’re coming in real clear.”

“Because I’m standing  _ right here _ .” She bumped his shoulder hard as she went past to stand higher on the ridge. The mule was parked a few yards behind them, Sugar still perched daintily on top and Santana looked off into the distance through her specs. 

“See anything yet?”

“From the rendezvous spot? Yes, sir. I see about a half dozen places where baddies could be hiding, but I’ve only seen a couple that seem occupied.” 

“Good. Point ‘em out to Puck and let’s get ready to move.” 

She left Santana to direct Puck and she took out her own binocs, scanning for horizon. 

“Just like the old days, huh, Santana? Kind of makes you nostalgic.”

“Not me, sir. I spent most of the old days getting shot at.” Santana deadpanned. 

“Well, then it might be more like the old days than not.” Mercedes turned to Puck. “You ready, Puckerman?”

“Yep, I’m going to head up to that ridge-” Puck started pointing into the distance. “Take out the guy there, and then finish the rest of ‘em up. Then I’ll radio back to you, and let you know that everything is clear.”

“Well, lookie there, Puckerman. You’re not quite as worthless as you make out to be.”

“Thanks, Cap’n. I- Wait a second.”

“Well, don’t just stand there, Puck, get to it. We’ll wait for your signal.”

Puck hesitated a moment and seemed to decide that the Captain’s words were more complimentary than he’d first thought and jogged off, out of sight of the far ridge, but in the direction of it. 

Mercedes went back towards the mule, and while she climbed on, Santana stayed on the ground. 

“It’s no rush, Lopez. I reckon Puck’s shenanigans will give us about ten minutes before we need to make a move.”

“I’d like to keep an eye out, sir.” 

“Good idea. Try to stay out of sight.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Santana made her way up the ridge, and got low, eventually getting on her stomach before crawling out of sight. 

“They’re a good team.” Sugar piped up. 

Mercedes nodded. “That they are.”

“Do you think you thought of everything?”

Mercedes considered the question for a moment. “I doubt it, but who could have, really? Whatever problems we face- and we’ll face ‘em, I’m sure- we’ll just take them one at a time. It’s the only way to deal with situations such as these.”

“Are you always so zen?”

“In my line of work? You have to be.”

-

Shannon Beiste was sure she’d considered every possibility when it came to making a home on Songbird. She’d thought she’d made peace with the kind of work they did. She figured she could stomach the crime, the theft, and the duplicity. But now Reavers were knocking at their door, and they were threatening murder to law men. This was beyond the point of no return. This was criminality of the highest caliber. That didn’t mean that she somehow thought she could turn them in. No, nothing that stark. But she had to do something to soothe her conscience. So, that’s how she found herself outside of the hold, thinking about the best way to get Hudson off the ship before the Captain came back. She didn’t have to give him a radio and a hundred credits. But she could at least get them out of mortal danger. 

She knocked a few times on the hold door. “Mr. Hudson? This is the Shepherd. Are you, um, are you in there?”

There was no response and Shannon knocked again. “Mr. Hudson, I understand you’re in a bit of bind, but I’m here to help, I assure you. I come with no ulterior motive, but to do some good in these trying times.”

Again, no response. 

“Mr. Hudson?”

Visions of the lawman, beaten to a bloody pulp by Puck flashed through her head. He lay on the floor, choking on his own blood, and if only, if only someone had come to his aid earlier, his death could have been wholly avoided. She scrambled with the lock for a moment, and pulled open the door. To her surprise the room was empty. 

“What the-”

Shannon took a few steps inside and looked around frantically. Suddenly there was a hard weight on her back, and then, nothing. 

Finn Hudson stood over Shannon’s unconscious body, and quickly pulled the last pieces of tape from around his wrists. 

“Should have stayed out of it, Preacher. Now you’re going away with the rest of them.” 

Finn rushed out of the hold, and pulled the door closed behind him, locking it. He knew since they touched down, some if not all of the crew would be dealing with that Sugar Motta drop. He wasn’t worried about that now. Jacob had made it clear that there were protocols in place should he fail. Now he was focused on the Changs. He’d recognized Quinn the moment he’d gotten on board the boat. Between the acclaim that would come from putting Jones and her filthy smugglers away, and all those credits he’d be getting once he brought in Quinn Fabray… Well, he had every incentive to get this right. 

He grabbed a loose pipe and roamed down the hallway getting close to the mess hall and, peeking around a corner until he heard voices. 

“How do you think the Captain’s doing, Quinn?” Kurt asked, his worry evident in his voice.  

“I’m sure she’s fine, Kurt. Just try to relax, ok?”

“I don’t know if I can, it’s just so much going on. I’m usually excited for these things, but that Fed is down there, and…”

Finn was about to make a move when heavy footsteps behind him drove him further into a hidden corner. 

“Quinn, what’s this?”

Finn moved out a little into the hallway to try and get a glimpse into the mess hall. He couldn’t make out what exactly was going on, but Mike’s voice was angry. 

“It looks like a suitcase, Mike.”

“Kurt, I didn’t ask you. Quinn, what’s happening? Why are all your things packed away?”

“That’s none of your business, Mike.”

“None of my-? Are you serious? Everything that’s happened since the day I pulled you out of school has been my business. Where are you planning on going? Where are you going?”

“That’s none of your business either, Mike, I-”

The voices had come towards him so quickly Finn hadn’t had time to hide again and suddenly he was face to face with Quinn. Neither of them had barely had a moment to react when Mike came barreling towards his midsection, shoulder first. 

There was a tremendous grunt as they both hit the floor, and the pipe that Finn had in his hand went flying. Kurt gave a little squeak and went after it, and in a flash Mike was straddling Finn, raining blows down as quickly as he could. 

Finn pushed off with his legs, and sent Mike flying, shoved Quinn out of the way, and heading straight for Kurt. He slammed a fist into Kurt’s jaw and grabbed the pipe as the other man went down. 

“Kurt!” Quinn screamed. In an instant, she was holding onto the pipe as well, and tugging desperately. Finn flung her roughly off to the side, and sent a kick in her direction. She landed in a heap, but before he could turn again, there was a heavy weight on his shoulders as Mike jumped onto his back. He swung the pipe around wildly, getting a few solid hits onto his back before Mike slid to the floor. He brought the pipe down a couple more times for good measure on Mike’s crumpled form. Finn reached for Quinn, pulling her up by the hair, ignoring the yelps that came from her. 

“All I wanted was a little cooperation.” He said, tugging at Quinn’s hair brutally. “I am a man of the law! I have never met a bunch of people more dead set on being on the wrong side of it.”

He yanked Quinn to her feet, and using the pipe, guided her out of the mess hall. “Come on now, Ms. Fabray. Our landing party should be here shortly and we don’t want to be late.”

-

“Captain Jones, I presume?”

The woman from the wave walked towards them, settling in a few feet away. Santana couldn’t help notice the small army she’d brought along with her. There were ten men by her side, and that wasn’t counting the ones she’d squirreled away in the hills. 

She’d approached them on horseback, but once she’d gotten within speak distance, she’d dismounted, and walked the horse the rest of the way. She looked like a real frontierswoman. Right at home on Constance. She probably spent most of her time bossing around townsfolk who had no idea how a real planet was supposed to be run. 

The woman continued. “My name is Matilda Johanssen. I’m Al Motta’s contact here. I’m supposed to be taking charge of young Ms. Motta.”

“Is that so?” Mercedes said, keeping her hands at her side, but not making any overt gestures. “Nice to meet you Ms. Johanssen.”

Matilda squinted behind them to where Sugar was still sitting on the mule. She waved to Sugar who waved back. “What is she doing so far away? I thought this was a drop off?” 

Her casual tone was so forced that Santana would have figured it was a trap by now, if she hadn’t already. 

Mercedes matched both the casual tone and the insincerity in her reply. “Oh, it is. It’s just that Sugar has been with us for so long that we wanted to make sure that everything went real smooth. The Motta’s have got enemies, you know.”

Matilda smiled. “Oh, don’t I know it.”

There was a long silence and finally Santana spoke up. 

“Lotta men for a drop off.”

Matilda looked around as if she were just noticing her cohort. “Well, aint it just! You can’t be too careful, is what I always say.”

Another silence and Mercedes seemed to grow impatient. “If you want to hand over the credits now, that would be more than appreciated.”

“Sure, sure.” Matilda said, taking a few steps back towards her horse, and digging through the ruck sack. She pulled out a small bag, and tossed it to Mercedes who opened it. 

Mercedes counted quickly in her head. “Well, isn’t this something. This isn’t even half of the money were were promised.”

Matilda laughed evilly. “I’m sure it’s all right, Captain. You won’t need it where you’re going anyway.” She raised a hand to the sky, as if in a signal, but nothing happened. 

Matilda frowned and raised her hand again, before turning sharply towards the hills. “What in the seven hells-?”

Suddenly shots rang out, but instead of Mercedes and Santana falling to the ground, three of Matilda’s men were down in rapid succession. 

All hell broke lose as everyone reached for their guns and ran for cover. Mercedes had two shots off and two more men down before their guns were fully out of their holsters, and Santana followed suit. She’d caught three more in the body, and went to aim for the last two. She was just letting off a volley when a round caught her full in the chest. 

Santana slammed down into the ground hard and Sugar screamed her name from the Mule. Two more shots from Puck and it seemed the worst of it was over. In the meantime, Matilda was back on her horse, and headed away from the carnage. Mercedes took careful aim and nailed her horse from the distance. It whinnied as it hit the ground, collapsing on top of her. 

Mercedes spared a glance at Santana as Sugar came crashing in beside where she lay on the ground. “You ok, Lopez?”

Santana wheezed a few times before opening her shirt, revealing the vest that was pounded in scattershot. “Yeah, um, I can’t breathe at the moment, but I’ll be ok.”

“Gorramit, Santana. Why didn’t you say you were wearing a vest?!” Sugar whined. 

“Well, that would have given the whole thing away, wouldn’t it?” Mercedes smiled, bringing the radio to her face. “Puck, how’s it looking up there?”

A moment later the radio crackled back at her. “It’s all good, ‘Cedes, I’m heading back.”

Mercedes approached where Matilda lay under her horse, struggling to get free. She tossed the money bag in her hands a few times. “Where’s the rest of it, Johanssen?”

Matilda spat at her, but Mercedes only chuckled. “Why, there’s no need for such unpleasantness.”

She knelt down and poked around in the saddlebag, pulling out another small bag, this one about the same weight as the first. 

“Now, this seems to be about right.” She slid her gun back into the holster, and pointed a finger accusingly at Matilda. “What happened? You get cold feet?”

“Ha!” Matilda wheezed. “You wish. The Ben Israels were willing to pay top dollar for info about her. They still will.”

“Hush.” Mercedes tsked. “You may have gotten greedy, Johanssen, but now you’re on the bad side of the Mottas. I hope whatever money you got was worth it. And from what I hear, Al Motta is not a very forgiving man.” 

Matilda’s face seemed to pale even more as she thought about it.

“You listen to me, and you listen well. Might be that you make it out of this little scrape. Might be that you get a mind that you want to tell someone about our little escapade. But believe you me, I am not one to hold a grudge. I am not of that mind. Not one jot. All I know is, I do the job, and I get paid. Easy as you please. And as you can see…” She pointed to Sugar, who was helping Santana to her feet. “Sugar Motta made it to this rock. Whether or not she stays is another matter altogether, and frankly, none of my concern. It was my job to escort her, and escort her I did. Job done. And now, job paid.”

Mercedes shook the bags a few more times for emphasis, and then tucked them inside her jacket. She walked back to where Santana and Sugar stood and smiled happily. 

“I think that’s worth a round or so next time we’re on a respectable planet. My treat!” She clapped a hand on Santana’s shoulder as she lead them back to the Mule. 

Santana winced and tried not to groan. “Yeah, your treat.”

“Oh come now, Lopez, this ain’t even the first time getting shot. And half those time you didn’t even have a vest on-”

Suddenly, Puck’s voice was in their ears, and he sounded like he was at a dead sprint. “Captain, we gotta get back to the ship. Those Reavers we passed! They’re headed this way.”

There wasn’t a moment to pause as Mercedes pushed Santana forwards, and grabbed Sugar’s arm. They raced back towards the mule. 

-

“I’ve been on this ship for almost three weeks. Didja know that Ms. Fabray?” Finn complained, dragging Quinn by the arm as she fought. Three weeks of gruel, three weeks of Puck mouth breathing everywhere and that blonde pilot’s stupid jokes. Three weeks of you and the Captain doing whatever inane thing it is that you two are doing. Or not doing. Three weeks of that awful smell. What even is that?!” 

Finn yanked her brusquely at this, and Quinn squeaked, trying her best not to give him the satisfaction of crying out. 

“Three weeks of it, and you know what? I’m sick of it. I’m sick of it.” 

He lead her to the loading bay, and looked around frantically. “Where in the gorram hell did they- A ha!” His note of relief was pointed at his bag, which was leaning against a post by the stairs. He ruffled through it with one hand and pulled out his gun. 

“I knew they didn’t get rid of it. Now all we’ve gotta do is wait for the Captain to get back, and we’re going to make sure Agent Hudson gets his payday. We’re going to- yow!”

His monologue was broken off as Quinn sunk her teeth into his arm, causing the gun to clatter to the ground. He swung his hand across her face, cursing loudly. He’d only taken a few steps towards where the gun had fallen before there was another weight slamming into his back. 

“You 龟儿子. Don’t you ever in  your life put your hands on her like that again.” Mike shouted, as he sent his full force into Finn’s back. The two of them toppled to the ground again, and this time Finn was the first to scramble to his feet. 

“I’m going to put you down, Doc, and I’m not going to go easy this time.” He took a swing at Mike, and caught him in the ear, sending him tumbling, but before he was even done falling Mike was grabbing at his ankles, pulling him towards the ground. 

“Gorramit!”

Kurt rushed in and tried grabbing at Quinn, to pull her away, but she rushed at Finn again, trying her best to help Mike overwhelm him. 

They both exchanged a few blows, but Finn caught Mike again in the jaw (not before taking a few well placed punches himself), and dove for the gun. 

He pointed it at Mike, Kurt and Quinn, but grabbed Quinn and pulled her close, shaking her roughly. “You try that biting thing again, and I’m going to shoot your brother right between the eyes. Do you hear me?” He roared. 

Suddenly Brittany’s voice was all around them. “It’s Reavers. They must have followed us. We’re getting everyone from the drop, and we’re making a run for it, strap yourselves in.”

They all looked helplessly, and Kurt went as white as a ghost. “Finn, you can’t do this. Not right now. Where are you going to go? Or are you going to wait on the Reavers to come and kill us where we stand? We can’t-”

“Shut up! I just need to  _ think _ for one gorram minute.”

Behind them, the cargo bay doors began to open.

“Finn, this is it. Let her go, and we can deal with this when it’s all over.” Mike tried, putting a hand out to them both. 

“I said shut up! You all think you’re so smart. You think you can tell me what to do?! Well, I am a man of the law! I can-”

The doors opened fully, and the mule pulled into the cargo bay. 

Finn barely had time to turn before two shots rang out and he collapsed in a heap. Quinn fell away, and Mike grabbed her, pulling her aside. 

Mercedes holstered her gun, and jumped down, hitting a button beside the door. She made to hoist Finn’s body up on her shoulder, but after a moment of struggle, Santana came to her aid. They managed to dump him right as the door was closing. 

Mercedes hit another button on the comm. “We’re in, Brittany. Let’s get out of here.” 

Barely anyone had moved, but Mercedes clapped her hands a few times to break the spell. “You heard her folks, get strapped in. Kurt, I want you in the engine room, now. Puck go with him to help. The rest of you find a seat, and buckle yourselves in. Now.”

Her tone said it all, and they all scrambled off into different directions to do what she’d asked. Mercedes, herself, took off towards the cockpit, with Santana on her heels. 

“What have we got, Britt. Can we get out of here?”

Brittany had rolled up her sleeves, and was pulling mightily on the yoke. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead and her brow was knit in concentration. 

“I’m doing my best, Captain, but they’re right on our tails.”

They both took their seats and strapped in, Mercedes flipping a few switches on the console to bring up a view screen. The Reaver ship was only a click or so behind them, and gaining fast. The ship, which had looked menacing enough when it was barely a dot in the distance was now a full blown monstrosity. It was leaking radiation that they could see from the front half, and the back half looked near demolished. Bloodied flags and bones covered the outside in a macabre decoration. 

Brittany took them through one canyon and another, trying to lose the other ship, but it was no use, with every turn the Reaver ship for closer and closer. 

“They’re 120 meters away.” Santana said, cutting through the rumble of the ship. 

“Can you shake ‘em, Britt?” 

Brittany’s voice vibrated with the shaking of the yoke in her hands. “I’m trying. I’m going to try to hit atmo, but they’re too close.”

Mercedes thought for a moment, but nothing jumped out at her. “We’ve gotta do something, Britt.”

“94 meters.” Santana interrupted again. 

Brittany nodded. “I know, Captain.” She took on hand away from the controls, and flipped the switch that connected her with the engine room. “Kurt. We’re going to need all the thruster power, please. I’m going for a Crazy Ivan.”

There was no response for a moment, and Brittany spoke up again. “Kurt?”

“Yeah, Britt.” Kurt’s voice seemed unsure, but it came in stronger a moment later. “Yeah, Britt, give me one minute. And then give me the signal.”

“77 meters, Brittany.” 

Brittany looked at the viewscreen that showed their pursuers. “You’ve got thirty seconds.”

There was a burst of static as Kurt clicked off, and Mercedes didn’t take her eyes off the viewer.

“A Crazy Ivan, huh?”

Brittany flipped a few switches. “Yup.”

There was another moment of quiet. 

“You think that’ll work?”

A few more switches. “Yup.”

“49 meters.”

Mercedes tried to hide the dismay in her voice. “Their hooks can reach at 30 meters, Britt. We’ve gotta-”

“I know, Captain, I just need a another second longer.” She flipped back on the radio. “Kurt? What have you got?”

“I need another second, Britt, we’re almost there. No, not there, Puck, there! The thermal exhaust! Bypass it!”

“38 meters.”

“We need it yesterday, Kurt.” Mercedes said now, trying her best not to break her pilot’s concentration. 

“I’m going as fast- Puck, just get out of the way, lift here, on my mark.”

“33 meters.”

“Kurt….”

Proximity alarms started blaring all around them, and Brittany squeezed the controls are hard as she could. 

Suddenly, Kurt’s voice came through again. “Now, Britt, now!” 

There was a loud pop coming from the engine room, and Brittany pulled hard on the yoke, careening them in a circle, and bringing them 180 degrees from the direction they had been facing. Santana did her best to keep her lunch down, but her stomach rose violently in her throat. 

“I’m pulling it Kurt!” Brittany shouted, as she smashed a few more buttons. 

With that Songbird howled, and shot them into atmo, and out into space. Santana looked closely at the display. 

“You did it! There’s no way they can follow us now.”

They all breathed a sigh of relief, and Mercedes reached for the radio. “We’re clear, everyone. You can relax. We’ve lost them.”

Santana unbuckled and got unsteadily to her feet. “That was…”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Brittany said, waggling her eyebrows. 

“Captain?” Santana said, reaching for Brittany’s untied jumpsuit, and pulling one of the sleeves towards her. 

“Yeah?”

“I need you to take the helm, please. I need this woman to tear my clothes off.”

Mercedes only smiled and rolled her eyes. 

“Work, work, work.” laughed Brittany, as Santana dragged her out of the cockpit.

\

“What’s the difference between a lobster with breast implants, and a dirty bus stop?” 

Everyone was watching Brittany again, as she hammed it up to tell her joke. She and Mike had been going at it for the better part of the last half hour, and everyone seemed pretty entertained. Santana sat right beside her, as usual, but this time she didn’t bother to hide the adoration in her eyes, or the hand she’d planted firmly in Brittany’s lap. 

“Oh, come on, Britt, there’s no way-”

“If you’d rather give up now, Chang, we can make this easy on you.”

“What?” Mike said, mock offended. “No way.” 

Rachel sat on the other side of him, looking no worse for wear, and the rest of their motley crew filled out the mess hall. Each wearing some bump or bruise from their most recent escapade. He’d done a good job patching them all up, and Mercedes was coming to think that it probably wasn’t such a bad thing that he hadn’t left him and his sister on Greenleaf. 

She sat off to the side, watching them all as she usually did, just out of their line of sight, sipping a cup of what was called coffee, but she wasn’t so sure. She wanted to be close enough to the bridge to go up there if things went wrong. But it had been more than a week since their little adventure, and they’d run into no more trouble yet. 

“Penny for your thoughts, Captain.” A voice purred beside her. 

Mercedes didn’t look. She was more than used to Quinn finding her in her more vulnerable moments. She offered a small smile. 

“I was just thinking that it was mighty fortuitous that we have a doctor aboard.”

“That it is.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to make Santana kiss you again before you tell us, Britt? I don’t think she’d complain about that.” Puck shouted above the din. Suddenly there was a yelp as he found himself flat on his back, with Santana’s boot resting comfortably under his chin. 

“What was that, Puckerman?”

“Sorry, nothing.”

Quinn chuckled and turned back to Mercedes. 

“So, I take it our offer to be resettled is off the table?”

“Only if you don’t want it, it’s up to you, Quinn.”

“Oh, I dunno. I think I’ll hang out here a bit longer. It’s been an interesting trip so far. As long as you don’t mind, Captain?”

Mercedes took another sip. “What’s to mind?”

“Well, I dunno. Your ship is practically falling apart. Half of the crew have got bullets in them, the other half are beaten to a pulp.”

“But, we’re still flying, Fabray.”

“It’s not much, Captain.”

“It’s enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first: Thanks for staying with me through this whole thing. It took much longer than I anticipated, but it is what it is. I love writing Brittana fics, and I don't think I'll ever stop. I've got some one shots planned, so, look for that on the horizon. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Nextly: Kitty's story doesn't wrap up as neatly as the main plot. One reason is because there's more to it than I felt like I could get into it. On a more superficial level, it's supposed to just give you some insight into why Mercedes is the way that she is. And the kind of events that would lead to Mercedes and Santana setting out onto the Songbird. I hope that that's a sufficient answer, and I'm sorry if it doesn't really answer all of your questions. 
> 
> Thirdly: As this is a re-telling of the pilot of Serenity, think of this less as a standalone story, and more as the first episode of a series. It establishes the characters, their relationships and motivations. I hadn't really planned a lot more in this 'verse, but you can imagine the kind of shenanigans Captain Jones and the crew of the Songbird would get into. It's not to say I'll never write in it again, this will probably be the end for now. 
> 
> One last thing: The answer to Brittany's last riddle (which I couldn't find a place for in the text) is: One is a busty crustacean, one is a crusty bus station. You're welcome.


End file.
